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BOOKS  BY  JOANNA  H.   MATHEWS. 


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ROBERT   CARTER   AND  BROTHERS, 

New   York. 


^B^/ 


FRONTISPIECE. 


Bessie  at  Sea  Side. 


Bessie  a  t  the  Sea-Side. 


BY 

JOANNA  H.  MATHEWS 


4'*tod  a  kittle  <J5hild  shall  lead  them." 


NEW   YORK: 
Robert   Carter  &  Brotherst 

530  Broadway. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1867,  by 

Robert  Carter  and  Brothers, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 

Southern  District  of  New  York. 


$q  my  deai]  Mother;, 

Whose  iickildrcii  arise  up  and  call  her  blessed? 

IS   THIS   LITTLE   VOLUME 

Lovingly  and  gratefully  dedicated 


CONTENTS. 


I.   The  Sea-S/iore, 
II.    Old  Friends  and  2Vew, 
III.    The  Letter, 
IV.    The  Quarrel, 

V.    Toms  Sunday- School, 
VI.    The  Post- Office,     . 
VII.  A  Nezv  Friend, 
VIII.  Bessie's  Little  Sermon, 
IX.  Faith,         .... 

X.    The   Sick  Baby,     . 
XI.    The  Happy  Circumstance, 
XII.  Miss  Adams, 
XIII.  Bessie's  Repentance, 
XIV.    Who  is  a  Lady? 

XV.    Uncle  John,       . 
XVI.    The  Birthday  Presents, 
XVII.    The  Birthday  Party, 
XVIII.    The  Adventure,     . 
XIX.   Soul  and  Instinct,    . 

XX.  Nurse  taken  by  Surprise, 
XXI.    The   Colonel  in    Trouble, 
XXII.    The  Broken  Nose, 
XXIII.   Jesus'   Soldier, 


Pa  OH 

7 

21 

34 
5o 
61 

75 
96 

"3 
122 

135 
147 
157 
167 
1S0 
194 
209 
226 
247 

*5 
i&i 

305 
320 

335 


BESSIE  AT  THE  SEA-SIDE. 

I. 

THE  SEA-SHORE. 


jHE  hotel  carnage  rolled  away  from 
Mr.  Bradford's  door  with  papa  and 
mamma,  the  two  nurses  and  four  little 
children  inside,  and  such  a  lot  of  trunks  and 
baskets  on  the  top ;  all  on  their  way  to  Quam 
Beach.  Harry  and  Fred,  the  two  elder  boys, 
were  to  stay  with  grandmamma  until  their 
school  was  over  ;  and  then  they  also  were  to  go 
to  the  sea-side. 

The  great  coach  carried  them  across  the 
ferry,  and  then  they  all  jumped  out  and  took 
their  seats  in  the  cars.  It  was  a  long,  long 
ride,  and  after  they  left  the  cars  there  were 
still  three  or  four  miles  to  go  in  the  stage,  bo 


8  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

that  it  was  quite  dark  night  when  they  reached 
Mrs.  Jones's  house.  Poor  little  sick  Bessie  was 
tired  out,  and  even  Maggie,  who  had  enjoyed 
the  journey  very  much,  thought  that  she  should 
be  glad  to  go  to  bed  as  soon  as  she  had  had  her 
supper.  It  was  so  dark  that  the  children  could 
not  see  the  ocean,  of  which  they  had  talked  and 
thought  so  much ;  but  they  could  hear  thfc, 
sound  of  the  waves  as  they  rolled  up  on  the 
beach.  There  was  a  large  hotel  at  Quam,  but 
Mrs.  Bradford  did  not  choose  to  go  there  with 
her  little  children  ;  and  so  she  had  hired  all 
the  rooms  that  Mrs.  Jones  could  spare  in  her 
house.  The  rooms  were  neat  and  clean,  but 
very  plain,  and  not  very  large,  and  so  different 
from  those  at  home  that  Maggie  thought  she 
should  not  like  them  at  all.  In  that  which  was 
to  be  the  nursery  was  a  large,  four-post  bed- 
stead in  which  nurse  and  Franky  were  to  sleep ; 
and  beside  it  stood  an  old-fashioned  trundle- 
bed,  which  was  for  Maggie  and  Bessie.  Bessie 
was  only  too  glad  to  be  put  into  it  at  once,  but 
Maggie  looked  at  it  with  great  displeasure. 


The  Sea-Shore.  9 

»*  I  sha'n't  sleep  in  that  nasty  bed,"  she  said. 
"  Bessie,  don't  do  it." 

"  Indeed,"  said  nurse,  "  it's  a  very  nice  bed  ; 
and  if  you  are  going  to  be  a  naughty  child,  bet- 
ter than  you  deserve.  That's  a  great  way  you 
have  of  calling  every  thing  that  don't  just  suit 
you,  '  nasty.'  I'd  like  to  know  where  you 
mean  to  sleep,  if  you  don't  sleep  there." 

"  I'm  going  to  ask  mamma  to  make  Mrs. 
Jones  give  us  a  better  one,"  said  Maggie ;  and 
away  she  ran  to  the  other  room  where  mamma 
was  undressing  the  baby.  "  Mamma,"  she 
said,  "  won't  you  make  Mrs.  Jones  give  us  a 
better  bed  ?  That's  just  a  kind  of  make-believe 
bed  that  nurse  pulled  out  of  the  big  one,  and 
I  know  I  can't  sleep  a  wink  in  it." 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  Mrs.  Jones  has  another 
one  to  give  us,  dear,"  said  her  mother.  "  I 
know  it  is  not  so  pretty  as  your  little  bed  at 
home,  but  I  think  you  will  find  it  very  comfort- 
able. When  I  was  a  little  girl,  I  always  slept 
in  a  trundle-bed,  and  I  never  rested  better.  If 
you  do  not  sleep  a  wink,  we  will  see  what  Mrs. 


io  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Jones  can  do  for  us  to-morrow  ;  but  for  to-niglit 
I  think  you  must  be  contented  with  that  bed ; 
and  if  my  little  girl  is  as  tired  as  her  mother, 
she  will  be  glad  to  lie  down  anywhere." 

Maggie  had  felt  like  fretting  a  little ;  but 
when  she  saw  how  pale  and  tired  her  dear 
mother  looked,  she  thought  she  would  not 
trouble  her  by  being  naughty,  so  she  put  up 
her  face  for  another  good-night  kiss,  and  ran 
back  to  the  nursery. 

"  0,  Maggie,"  said  Bessie,  "this  bed  is  yeal 
nice  and  comf 'able  ;  come  and  feel  it."  So 
Maggie  popped  in  between  the  clean  white 
sheets,  and  in  two  minutes  she  had  forgotten 
all  about  the  trundle-bed  and  everything 
else. 

When  Bessie  woke  up  the  next  morning,  she 
saw  Maggie  standing  by  the  open  window,  in 
her  night-gown,  with  no  shoes  or  stockings  on. 
"  0,  Maggie,"  she  said,  "  mamma  told  us  not 
to  go  bare-feeted,  and  you  are." 

"  I  forgot,"  said  Maggie ;  and  she  ran  back 
to  the  bed  and  jumped  in  beside  Bessie.     "  Bes- 


The  Sea-Shore.  n 

6ie,  there's  such  lots  and  lots  of  water  out  there ! 
You  never  saw  so  much,  not  even  in  the  reser- 
voir at  the  Central  Park." 

"  I  guess  it's  the  sea,"  said  Bessie ;  "  don't 
you  know  mamma  said  we  would  see  water  and 
water  ever  so  far,  and  we  couldn't  see  the  end 
of  it?" 

"  But  I  do  see  the  end  of  it,"  said  Maggie  ; 
"  mamma  was  mistaken.  I  saw  where  the  sky 
came  down  and  stopped  the  sea ;  and,  Bessie, 
I  saw  such  a  wonderful  thing, — the  sun  came 
right  up  out  of  the  water." 

"  0,  Maggie,  it  couldn't ;  you  was  mistaken. 
If  it  went  in  the  water  it  would  be  put  out." 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  Maggie,  "  it  was  the 
sun,  and  it  is  shining  right  there  now.  It  isn't 
put  out  a  bit.  I  woke  up  and  I  heard  that 
noise  mamma  told  us  was  the  waves,  and  I 
wanted  to  see  them,  so  I  went  to  look,  and  over 
there  in  the  sky  was  a  beautiful  red  light ;  and 
in  a  minute  I  saw  something  bright  coming  out 
of  the  water  away  off;  and  it  came  higher  and 
higher,  and  got  so  bright  I  could  nut  look  at  it, 
and  it  was  the  sun,  I  know  it  was." 


12  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  But,  Maggie,  how  didn't  it  get  put  out  if 
it  went  in  the  water  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Maggie,  "  I'm  going  to 
ask  papa." 

Just  then  nurse  and  Jane  came  in  with 
water  for  the  children's  bath,  and  before  they 
were  dressed,  there  was  papa  at  the  door  ask- 
ing if  there  were  any  little  girls  ready  to  go  on 
the  beach  and  find  an  appetite  for  breakfast. 
After  that,  nurse  could  scarcely  dress  them  fast 
enough,  and  in  a  few  moments  they  were  ready 
to  run  down  to  the  front  porch  where  papa  was 
waiting  for  them. 

"  0,  papa,  what  a  great,  great  water  the 
sea  is  !"  said  Bessie. 

"  Yes,  dear  ;  and  what  a  great  and  wise  God 
must  He  be  who  made  this  wide  sea  and  holds 
it  in  its  place,  and  lets  it  come  no  farther  than 
He  wills." 

"  Papa,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  saw  the  wonderful- 
est  thing  this  morning." 

"  The  most  wonderful,"  said  her  father. 

"  The    most  wonderful,"  repeated   Maggie. 


The  Sea-Shore.  13 

"  It  was  indeed,  papa,  and  you  need  not  think 
I  was  mistaken,  for  I  am  quite,  quite  sure  I 
saw  it." 

"And  what  was  this  most  wonderful  thing 
you  are  so  very  sure  you  saw,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  It  was  the  sun,  papa,  coming  right  up  out 
of  the  water,  and  it  was  not  put  out  a  bit.  It 
came  up,  up,  away  off  there,  where  the  sky 
touches  the  water.  Mamma  said  we  could  not 
see  the  end  of  the  ocean,  but  I  see  it  quite  well. 
Do  not  you  see  it,  too,  papa  ? " 

"  I  see  what  appears  to  be  the  end  of  the 
ocean,  but  these  great  waters  stretch  away  for 
many  hundred  miles  farther.  If  you  were  to 
get  on  a  ship  and  sail  away  as  far  as  you  can 
see  from  here,  you  would  still  see  just  as  much 
water  before  you,  and  the  sea  and  the  sky 
would  still  appear  to  touch  each  other :  an<? 
however  far  you  went  it  would  always  be  so, 
until  you  came  where  the  land  bounds  the 
ocean  on  the  other  side.  The  place  where  the 
sky  and  water  seem  to  meet,  is  called  the  hori- 
zon ;  and  it  is  because  they  do  seem  to  touch, 


14  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

that  the  sun  appeared  to  you  to  come  out  of 
the  water.  It  is  rather  a  difficult  thing  for 
such  little  girls  as  you  and  Bessie  to  under- 
stand, but  I  will  try  to  make  it  plain  to  you. 
You  know  that  the  earth  is  round,  like  a  ball, 
do  you  not,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  papa." 

"  And  I  suppose  that  you  think  that  the  sun 
is  moving  when  it  seems  to  come  up  in  the 
morning,  and  goes  on  and  on,  till  it  is  quite 
over  our  heads,  and  then  goes  down  on  the 
other  side  of  the  sky  until  we  can  see  it  no 
more,  do  you  not  ?  " 

"Yes,  papa." 

"  But  it  is  really  the  earth  on  which  we  live, 
and  not  the  sun,  which  is  moving.  Once  in 
twenty-four  hours,  which  makes  one  day  and 
one  night,  the  earth  turns  entirely  round,  so 
that  a  part  of  the  time  one  side  is  turned  to  the 
sun,  and  a  part  of  the  time  the  other  side. 
See  if  you  can  find  me  a  small,  round  stone? 
Maggie." 

Maggie  looked  around  till  she  found  such  a 


The  Sea-Shore.  15 

Btone  as  her  father  wanted,  and  brought  it  to 
him.  "  Now,"  he  said,  "  this  stone  shall  be 
our  earth,  and.  this  scratch  the  place  where  we 
live.  We  will  take  off  Bessie's  hat  and  have 
that  for  the  sun.  Now  I  will  hold  the  mark 
which  stands  for  our  home,  directly  in  front  of 
our  make-believe  sun.  If  a  bright  light  were 
coming  from  the  sun  and  shining  on  our  mark 
here,  it  would  be  the  middle  of  the  day  or  noon, 
while  it  would  be  dark  on  the  other  side.  Then, 
as  our  earth  moved  slowly  around  in  this  way, 
and  we  turned  from  the  sun  it  would  become 
afternoon ;  and  as  we  turned  farther  yet  till 
we  were  quite  away  from  the  sun,  it  would  be 
night.  But  we  do  not  stay  there  in  the  dark, 
for  we  still  go  moving  slowly  round,  until  our 
side  of  the  earth  comes  towards  the  light  again, 
and  the  darkness  begins  to  pass  away.  The 
nearer  we  come  to  the  sun  the  lighter  it  grows, 
until,  if  some  little  girl  who  lives  on  our  scratch 
is  up  early  enough  and  looks  out  at  the  hori- 
zon, or  place  where  the  earth  and  sky  seem  to 
meet,  she  sees  the  sun  showing  himself  little 


1 6  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

by  little  ;  and  it  looks  to  her  as  if  be  were  com- 
ing up  out  of  tbe  sea,  while  all  the  time  the 
sim  is  standing  still,  and  the  earth  on  which 
we  live  is  moving  round  so  as  to  bring  her  once 
more  opposite  to  him." 

"  And  is  it  night  on  the  other  side  of  the 
world  ?  "  asked  Maggie. 

"  Yes,  there  is  no  sun  there  now,  and  it  is 
dark  night  for  the  little  children  who  live 
there." 

"  And  are  they  going  to  have  their  supper 
while  we  have  our  brefix  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  Just  about  so,  I  suppose,"  said  papa. 

"  But,  papa,"  said  Maggie  with  very  wide 
open  eyes,  "  do  you  mean  that  the  world  is  go- 
ing to  turn  way  over  on  the  other  side  to- 
night?" 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  Then  we  will  fall  off,"  said  Maggie. 

"  Did  you  fall  off  last  night  ?  "  asked  papa. 

"  No,  sir." 

"  And  you  have  been  living  for  nearly  seven 
years,  and  every  day  of  your  life  the  earth  has 


The  Sea-Shore.  ;<j 

turned  around  in  the  same  way,  and  you  have 
never  yet  fallen  off,  have  you  ?  " 

"  No,  papa." 

"  Nor  will  you  to-night,  my  little  girl.  The 
good  and  wise  God  who  has  made  our  earth 
to  move  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  us  both  light 
and  darkness  as  we  need  them,  has  also  given 
to  it  a  power  to  draw  towards  itself,  all  things 
that  live  or  grow  upon  its  surface.  Do  you 
know  what  surface  means  ?  " 

"  Yes,  papa,  —  the  top." 

"  Yes,  or  the  outside.  Suppose  you  were  to 
fall  off  the  top  of  the  house,  Maggie,  where 
would  you  fall  to  ?  " 

"  Down  in  the  street  and  be  killed,"  said 
Maggie. 

"  Yes,  down  to  the  street  or  ground,  and 
probably  you  would  be  killed.  And  it  is 
because  of  this  power  which  the  earth  has  of 
drawing  to  itself  all  things  that  are  upon  it, 
that  you  would  not  fly  off  into  the  air  and  keep 
on  falling,  falling,  for  no  one  knows  how  many 
miles.     It  is  too  hard  a  thing  for  you  to  undcr- 


1 8  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

stand  much  about  now,  but  when  you  are  older 
you  shall  learn  more.  But  we  have  had  a  long 
enough  lesson  for  this  morning.  We  will  walk 
about  a  little,  and  see  if  we  can  find  some  shells 
before  we  go  in  to  breakfast." 

They  found  a  good  many  shells :  some  little 
black  ones  which  Maggie  called  curlecues,  and 
some  white  on  the  outside  and  pink  inside. 
Then  there  were  a  few  which  were  fluted,  which 
the  children  said  were  the  prettiest  of  all. 
They  thought  the  beach  was  the  best  play- 
ground they  had  ever  seen,  and  they  were 
about  right.  First,  there  was  the  strip  of 
smooth,  white  sand,  on  which  the  waves  were 
breaking  into  beautiful  snowy  foam,  with  such 
a  pleasant  sound ;  then  came  another  space 
full  of  pebbles  and  stones  and  sea-weed,  with.a 
few  shells  and  here  and  there  a  great  rock ; 
then  more  rocks  and  stones  with  a  coarse  kind 
of  grass  growing  between  them ;  and  beyond 
these,  a  few  rough  fir  trees  which  looked  as  if 
they  found  it  hard  work  to  grow  there.  Last 
of  all  was  a  long,  sloping  bank,  on  top  of  which 


The  Sea-Shore.  19 

stood  Mr.  Jones's  house  and  two  or  three  oth- 
ers ;  and  farther  down  the  shore,  the  great 
hotel.  And  the  air  was  so  fresh  and  cool, 
with  such  a  pleasant  smell  of  the  salt  water. 

Maggie  was  full  of  fun  and  spirits,  and  raced 
about  till  her  cheeks  were  as  red  as  roses. 
There  were  several  other  people  on  the  beach, 
aud  among  them  were  some  little  boys  and 
girls.  Two  or  three  of  these,  when  they  saw 
Maggie  running  about  in  such  glee  began  to 
race  with  her,  but  the  moment  she  noticed 
them  site  became  shy  and  ran  away  from  them 
to  her  father  and  Bessie  who  were  walking 
quietly  along. 

"  Papa,"  said  Bessie  "  isn't  it  delicious  ?  " 

"  Is  not  what  delicious,  my  darling." 
.  "  I  don't  know,"  said  Bessie.     "  It.     I  like 
Quam  Beach,  papa.     I  wish  New  York  was 
just  like  this." 

"  It  is  this  cool,  fresh  sea-breeze  that  you 
like  so  much,  Bessie." 

"  And  I  like  to  see  the  water,  papa,  and  to 
hear  the  nice  noise  it  makes." 


20  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Yes,  it's  so  pleasant  here,"  said  Maggie. 
"Let's  stay  here  always,  papa,  and  never  go 
home." 

"  What !  and  sleep  in  the  trundle-bed  all 
your  lives  ?  "  said  papa. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  hate  that  bed. 
I  believe  I  did  sleep  a  little  bit  last  night, 
because  I  was  so  tired  ;  but  I  know  I  can't 
sleep  in  it  to-night." 

"  Well,"  said  papa,  "  I  think  we  will  try  it 
for  a  night  or  two  longer." 

And  then  they  all  went  in  to  breakfast. 


II. 

OLD  FRIENDS  AND  NEW. 


PTER  breakfast  they  went  out  again. 
Mr.  Bradford  and  his  little  girls  were 
standing  in  the  porch  waiting  for  mam- 
ma who  was  going  with  them,  when  Mr.  Jones 
came  up  from  the  shore.  He  had  been  fishing, 
and  looked  rather  rough  and  dirty,  but  he  had 
a  pleasant,  good-natured  face. 

"  Mornin'  sir,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Bradford ; 
"  folks  pretty  spry  ?  " 

"  Pretty  well,  thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Brad- 
ford ;  "  you  have  been  out  early  this  morn- 
ing." 

"  Yes,  I'm  generally  stirrin'  round  pretty 
early  ;  been  out  since  afore  day-light.  S'pose 
these  are  your  little  girls.  How  are  you,  Miss 
Bradford  ? "  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand. 

But  shy  Maggie  hung  her  head  and  drew  a 
little  away  behind  her  father. 

"  Why,  Maggie,"  said  Mr.  Bradford,  "  you 


22  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

are  not  polite  ;  shake  hands  with  Mr.  Jones, 
my  daughter." 

"Not  if  she  hain't  a  mind  to,"  said  Mr. 
Jones.  "  I  see  she's  a  bashful  puss,  but  she'll 
feel  better  acquainted  one  of  these  days." 

"  Yes,  she  will ;  "  said  Bessie,  "  and  then  she 
won't  be  shy  with  you  ;  but  I'm  not  shy  now, 
and  I'll  shake  hands  with  you." 

Mr.  Jones  took  the  tiny  little  hand  she  offered 
him  with  a  smile. 

"  No,  I  see  you  ain't  shy,  and  I  don't  want 
you  to  be  ;  you,  nor  your  sister  neither.     Goin' 
down  to  the  shore,  eh  ?  " 
'••"  Yes,  when  mamma  comes,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Well,  you  see  that  big  barn  out  there ; 
when  you  come  back  you  both  come  out  there. 
You'll  find  me  inside,  and  I'll  show  you  some- 
thing will  soon  cure  all  shyness  ;  that  is,  if  you 
like  it  as  much  as  most  young  folks  do." 

"  What  is  it  ? "  asked  Bessie. 

"  It's  a  scup." 

"  Will  it  bite  ?  "  said  Bessie. 

"  Bite  !     Don't  you  know  what  a  scup  is  ? 


Old  Friends  and  New.  23 

"  She  knows  it  by  the  name  of  a  swing," 
said  Mr.  Bradford. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  know  a  swing  ;  and  I  like  it  too. 
We'll  come,  Mr.  Jones." 

"  Is  it  quite  safe  for  them  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Brad- 
ford. 

"  Quite  safe,  sir.  I  put  it  up  last  Summer 
for  some  little  people  who  were  staying  here  ; 
and  Sam,  he's  my  eldest  son,  he  made  a  seat 
with  back  and  arms,  and  a  rung  along  the 
front  to  keep  them  in,  —  a  fall  on  the  barn  floor 
wouldn't  feel  good,  that's  a  fact ;  but  it's  as 
safe  as  strong  ropes  and  good  work  can  mako 
it.  I'll  take  care  they  don't  get  into  no  mis 
chief  with  it ;  but  come  along  with  the  little 
ones  and  see  for  yourself."  And  then  with  a 
nod  to  Maggie,  who  was  peeping  at  him  out 
of  the  corners  of  her  eyes,  Mr.  Jones  took  up 
his  basket  of  fish  and  walked  away  to  the 
kitchen. 

"  Bessie,"  said  Maggie,  as  they  went  down  to 
tne  beach,  "  do  you  like  that  man  ?  " 

«  Yes,  I  do,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  don't  you  ? ' 


24  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  No,  not  much.  But,  Bessie,  did  you  hear 
what  he  called  me  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  did  not  hear  him  call 
you  anything." 

"  He  called  me  Miss  Bradford,"  said  Maggie, 
holding  up  her  head  and  looking  very  grand. 

"  Well,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  suppose  he  was 
mad  because  you  wouldn't  shake  hands  with 
him." 

"  No,"  said  Maggie,  "  it  was  before  that ;  he 
said,  'how  do  you  do,  Miss  Bradford;'  and, 
Bessie,  I  like  to  be  called  Miss  Bradford  ;  and 
I  guess  I'll  like  him  because  he  did  it,  even  if 
he  does  smell  of  fish.  I  think  he  only  wanted 
to  be  respectable  to  me." 

They  found  a  good  many  people  upon  the 
beach  now,  and  among  them  were  some  ladies 
and  gentlemen  whom  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bradford 
knew,  and  while  they  stopped  to  speak  to  them, 
Maggie  and  Bessie  wandered  off  a  little  way, 
picking  up  shells  and  sea-weed  and  putting 
them  into  a  basket  which  their  mother  had 
given  them. 


Old  Friends  and  New.  25 

Presently  a  boy  and  girl  came  up  to  them. 
They  were  the  children  of  one  of  the  ladies 
who  was  talking  to  Mrs.  Bradford,  and  their 
mother  had  sent  them  to  make  acquaintance 
with  Maggie  and  Bessie. 

"  What's  your  name,"  said  the  boy,  coming 
right  up  to  Maggie.  Maggie  looked  at  him 
without  speaking,  and,  putting  both  hands  be- 
hind her,  began  slowly  backing  away  from 
him. 

"  I  say,"  said  the  boy,  "  what's  your  name  ? 
My  mother  sent  us  to  make  friends  with  you  ; 
but  we  can't  do  it,  if  you  won't  tell  us  what 
your  name  is." 

"  Her  name  is  Miss  Bradford,"  said  Bessie, 
who  wanted  to  please  her  sister,  and  who  her- 
self thought  it  rather  fine  for  Maggie  to  be 
called  Miss  Bradford. 

"  Oh  !  and  you're  another  Miss  Bradford,  I 
suppose,"  said  the  boy,  laughing. 

"Why!  so  I  am,"  said  Bessie;  "I  didn't 
think  about  that  before.  Maggie  we're  two 
Miss  Bradfords." 


26  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Well,  two  Miss  Bradfords,  I  hope  we  find 
you  pretty  well  this  morning.  My  name  is  Mr. 
Stone,  and  my  sister's  is  Miss  Stone.  ' 

"  'Tain't,"  said  the  little  girl,  crossly,  "  it's 
nothing  but  Mary." 

"  Sure  enough,"  said  her  brother  ;  "  she's 
just  Miss  Mary,  quite  contrary  ;  whatever  you 
say,  she'll  say  just  the  other  thing  ;  that's  her 
way." 

"  Now,  Walter,  you  stop,"  said  Mary  in  a 
whining,  fretful  voice. 

"  Now,  Mamie,  you  stop,"  mimicked  her 
brother. 

"  I  think  we  wont  be  acquainted  with  you," 
said  Bessie.  "  I  am  afraid  you  are  not  very 
good  children." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so,"  asked  Walter. 

"'Cause  you  quarrel,"  said  Bessie;  "good 
children  don't  quarrel,  and  Jesus  won't  love 
you  if  you  do." 

"  What  a  funny  little  tot  you  are,"  said  Wal- 
ter. "I  won't  quarrel  with  you,  but  Mamie  is 
so  cross  I  can't  help  quarrelling  with  her.     I 


Old  Friends  and  JVew.  27 

like  girls,  and  I  want  to  play  with  you,  and 
your  sister,  too,  if  she'll  speak.  I  have  a  splen- 
did wagon  up  at  the  hotel  and  I'll  bring  it  and 
give  you  a  first-rate  ride  if  you  like.  Come, 
let  us  make  friends,  and  tell  me  your  first 
name,  Miss  Bradford,  No.  2." 

"  It's  Bessie,  and  my  sister's  is  Maggie." 
"  And  don't  you  and  Maggie  ever  quarrel  ?  " 
"  Why,  no,"  said  Maggie,  coming  out  of  her 
shy  fit  when  she  heard  this,  "  Bessie  is  my  own 
little  sister." 

"  Well,  and  Mamie  is  my  own  sister,  and  you 
see  we  quarrel  for  all  that.     But  never  mind 
that  now.     1 11  go  for  my  wagon  and  give  you 
a  ride  ;  will  you  like  it  ?  " 
"I  will,"  said  Bessie. 

In  a  few  minutes  Walter  came  back  with  his 
wagon.  Maggie  and  Bessie  thought  he  was 
quite  right  when  he  called  it  splendid.  They 
told  him  it  was  the  prettiest  wagon  they  had 
erer  seen.  He  said  he  would  give  Bessie  the 
first  ride,  and  he  lifted  her  in  and  told  Maggio 
and  Mamie  to  push  behind. 


28  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  I  sha'n't,"  said  Mamie  ;  "  I  want  a  ride, 
too  ;  there's  plenty  of  room,  Bessie's  so  lit- 
tle." 

"  No,  it  will  make  it  too  heavy,"  said  Wal- 
ter.    "  You  shall  ride  when  your  turn  comes." 

Mamie  began  to  cry,  and  Bessie  said  she 
would  get  out  and  let  her  ride  first ;  but  Wal- 
ter said  she  should  not. 

"  There  comes  Tom,"  said  Mamie  ;  "  he'll 
help  you  pull." 

The  children  looked  around,  and  there  was 
a  boy  rather  larger  than  Walter  coming  towards 
them. 

"  Why,  it's  Tom  Norris  ! "  said  Maggie ;  "  do 
you  know  him  ?  " 

And  sure  enough  it  was  their  own  Tom  Nor- 
ris, whom  they  loved  so  much.  He  ran  up  to 
them  and  kissed  Maggie  and  Bessie,  as  if  he 
were  very  glad  to  see  them. 

"  Why,  Tom,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  didn't  know 
you  came  here." 

"  I  came  night  before  last,  with  father,"  said 
Tom.     "  We  came  to  take  rooms  at  the  hotel, 


Old  Friends  and  New.  29 

and  I  wanted  to  stay  ;  so  father  left  me  with 
Mrs.  Stone,  and  lie  lias  gone  home  for  mother 
and  Lily,  and  the  whole  lot  and  scot  of  them  ; 
they're  all  coming  to-morrow." 

"  Oh  !  I  am  so  glad,"  said  Maggie. 

"  Tom  !  can't  I  ride  ?  "  asked  Mamie. 

"  You  must  ask  Walter,"  said  Tom ;  "  the 
wagon  is  his ;  what  are  you  crying  aboit, 
Mamie  ? " 

Walter  told  what  the  trouble  was. 

"  Come,  now,  Mamie,  be  good,  and  you  shall 
ride  with  Bessie,  and  I  will  help  Walter  pull." 
Mamie  was  put  into  the  seat  by  Bessie,  and 
then  Tom  said  they  must  find  room  for  Maggie, 
too.  So  he  made  her  sit  on  the  bottom  of  the 
wagon,  and  off  they  started.  Of  course  they 
were  crowded,  but  the  two  children  who  were 
good-natured  did  not  mind  that  at  all,  and 
would  have  been  quite  happy  had  it  not  been 
for  Mamie.  She  fretted  and  complained  so 
much  that  at  last  the  boys  were  out  of  patience 
and  took  her  out  of  the  wagon. 

"  You  see,"  said  Walter,  as  the  cross,  selfish 


30  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

child  went  off  screaming  to  her  mother,  "  Ma- 
mie is  the  only  girl,  and  the  youngest,  and  she 
has  been  so  spoiled  there  is  no  living  with 
her." 

They  were  all  happier  when  she  had  gone, 
and  had  a  nice  long  play  together. 

Tom  Norris  was  twelve  years  old,  but  he  did 
not  think  himself  too  large  to  play  with  or  amuse 
such  little  girls  as  Maggie  and  Bessie,  who  were 
only  seven  and  five  ;  and  as  he  was  always  kind 
and  good  to  them,  they  loved  him  dearly. 
Grown  people  liked  him  too,  and  said  he  was 
a  perfect  little  gentleman.  But  Tom  was  bet- 
ter than  that,  for  he  was  a  true  Christian  ;  and 
it  was  this  which  made  him  so  kind  and  polite 
to  every  one. 

When  Mr.  Bradford  came  to  call  his  little 
girls  to  go  home,  he  found  them  telling  Tom 
and  Walter  about  the  swing  which  Mr.  Jones 
had  promised  them,  and  he  invited  the  boys  to 
go  with  them  and  see  it.  So  they  all  went 
back  together. 

When  they  reached  home  Mr.  Bradford  told 


Old  Friends    and  New.  31 

them  they  might  go  on  to  the  barn  while  he 
went  into  the  house  for  a  few  minutes.  The 
great  barn-doors  were  open,  and  Mr.  Jones  and 
his  son,  Sam,  were  busy  inside.  Just  outside 
the  door  sat  Mrs.  Jones  with  a  pan  full  of  cur 
rants  in  her  lap  which  she  was  stringing. 
There  was  a  sheep  skin  on  the  ground  beside 
her,  and  on  it  sat  her  fat  baby,  Susie.  Two 
kittens  were  playing  on  the  grass  a  little  way 
off,  and  Susie  wanted  to  catch  them.  She 
would  roll  herself  over  on  her  hands  and  knees, 
and  creep  to  the  edge  of  her  sheep  skin,  but 
just  as  she  reached  it  her  mother's  hand  would 
take  her  by  the  waist  and  lift  her  back  to  the 
place  from  which  she  started.  Susie  would  sit 
still  for  a  moment,  as  if  she  was  very  much 
astonished,  and  then  try  again,  always  to  be 
pulled  back  to  the  old  spot.  But  when  she  saw 
Maggie  and  Bessie  she  forgot  the  kittens  and 
sat  quite  still  with  her  thumb  in  her  mouth 
staring  at  them  with  her  great  blue  eyes. 

"  Mr.  Jones, "  said  Bessie,  "  these  are    our 
friends.     One  is  an  old  friend,  and  his  name  is 


32  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Tom  ;  and  one  is  a  new  friend,  and  his  name 
is  Walter.  They  have  come  to  see  that  thing 
yon  don't  call  a  swing." 

"  They're  both  welcome  if  they're  friends  of 
yours,"  said  Mr.  Jones.  "  I'll  show  you  the 
scup  in  a  few  minutes,  as  soon  as  I  finish  this 
job  I'm  about." 

"  Mrs.  Jones,"  said  Bessie,  "  is  that  your 
baby  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  "  what  do  you 
think  of  her  ?  " 

"  I  think  she  is  fat,"  answered  Bessie. 
"  May  we  help  you  do  that,  Mrs.  Jones  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  stain  your  frocks,  and 
what  would  your  ma  say  then  ?  " 

"  She'd  say  you  oughtn't  to  let  us  do  it." 

"  Just  so,"  said  Mrs.  Jones.  "  No,  I  can't 
let  you  help  me,  but  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do. 
I  am  going  to  make  pies  out  of  these  currants 
and  I'll  make  you  each  a  turnover;  sha'n'i 
you  like  that  ?  " 

"  "What  is  a  turnover,"  asked  Maggie. 

"  Don't  you  know  what  a  turnover  is  ?     You 


Old   Friends    and   New.  33 

wait  and  see ;  you'll  like  'ein  when  you  find 
out.  You  can  play  with  Susie  if  you've  a 
mind  to." 

But  Susie  would  not  play,  she  only  sat  and 
stared  at  the  children,  and  sucked  her  thumb, 
Pretty  soon  papa  came,  and  when  Mr.  Jones 
was  ready  they  all  went  into  the  barn. 

The  swing  was  fastened  up  to  a  hook  in 

the  wall,  but  Mr.  Jones  soon  had  it  down  ;  and 

Mr.  Bradford  tried  it  and  found  it  quite  safe 

and  strong.     The  seat  was  large  enough  to  hold 

both  the  little  girls,  if  they  sat  pretty  close,  so 

they  were  both  put  into  it,  and  papa  gave  them 

a  fine  swing.     Then  the  boys  took  their  turn  ; 

and  Mr.  Jones  told  them  they  might  come  and 

swing  as  often  as  they  liked. 
3 


III. 


THE   LETTER. 


OU  are  not  going  to  bear  all  that  Mag- 
gie and  Bessie  did  every  day  at  the 
sea -shore,  but  only  a  few  of  the  things 
that  happened  to  them. 

They  liked  Quam  Beach  more  and  more. 
Maggie  did  not  mind  the  trundle-bed  so  very 
much  after  a  night  or  two,  though  she  nevei 
seemed  to  grow  quite  used  to  it ;  and  Bessie, 
who  had  been  weak  and  sick  when  they  left 
home,  became  stronger,  and  was  soon  able  to 
run  about  more  with  the  other  children. 

After  a  few  days  they  began  to  bathe  in  the 
sea.  Maggie  was  afraid  at  first,  and  cried  when 
she  was  carried  into  the  water  ;  but  the  second 
time  she  was  braver,  and  she  soon  came  to  like 
it  almost  as  well  as  Bessie,  who  never  was  ready 
to  come  out  when  it  was  thought  she  had  been 
in  long  enough.  She  would  beg  her  father  or 
the  bathing-woman  to  let  her  stay  just  one  min- 


The  Letter.  35 

ute  more ;  and  she  would  laugh  when  the 
waves  came  dashing  over  her,  so  that  sometimes 
the  salt  water  would  get  into  her  little  mouth. 
But  she  did  not  mind  it,  and  begged  for  another 
and  another  wave,  until  papa  would  say  that  it 
was  high  time  for  her  to  come  out.  Mamma 
said  she  had  never  seen  Bessie  enjoy  anything 
so  much,  and  it  made  her  feel  very  happy  to 
see  her  little  girl  growing  well  and  strong 
again. 

Bessie  loved  the  sea  very  much,  and  often 
when  her  sister  and  little  companions  were 
playing,  she  would  sit  quietly  on  some  rock, 
looking  away  out  over  the  wide,  beautiful 
waters,  or  watching  and  listening  to  the  waves 
as  they  came  rolling  up  on  the  beach.  People 
who  were  passing  used  to  turn  and  look  at  her, 
and  smile  when  they  saw  the  sweet  little  face, 
which  looked  so  grave  and  wise.  But  if  any 
stranger  asked  her  what  she  was  thinking  about, 
she  would  only  say,  "  Thoughts,  ma'am." 

Maggie  did  not  like  to  sit  still  as  Bessie  did. 
She  was  well  and    fat  and  rosy,  and  full  of 


36  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

fun  when  she  was  with  people  she  knew  ;  and 
she  liked  to  play  better  than  to  sit  on  the  rocks 
and  watch  the  water,  but  she  seldom  went  far 
away  from  Bessie,  and  was  always  running  to 
her  with  some  pretty  shell  or  sea-weed  she  had 
found.  She  and  Bessie  and  Lily  Norris  would 
play  in  the  sand  and  make  little  ponds  or  wells, 
and  sand  pies,  or  pop  the  air  bags  in  the  sea- 
weed ;  or  have  some  other  quiet  play  which  did 
not  tire  Bessie.  Very  often  Walter  Stone  and 
Tom  Norris  gave  them  a  ride  in  the  wagon ; 
or  Tom  told  them  nice  stories ;  and  sometimes 
they  all  went  out  on  the  water  in  Mr.  Jones's 
boat,  or  took  a  drive  with  papa  and  mamma. 
Before  they  had  been  at  Quam  Beach  many 
days,  they  knew  quite  a  number  of  the  chil- 
dren who  were  staying  there ;  and  they  liked 
almost  all  of  them,  except  fretful  Mamie  Stone, 
who  made  herself  so  disagreeable  that  no  one 
cared  to  play  with  her.  In  short,  there  were 
so  many  things  to  do,  and  so  much  to  see,  that 
the  day  was  never  long  enough  for  them. 
Then   they  made   friends  with   Toby,   Mr. 


The  Letter.  37 

Jones'  great  wnite  dog.  He  was  an  ugly  old 
fellow,  and  rather  gruff  and  unsociable ;  but, 
like  some  people,  he  was  in  reality  better  than 
he  appeared.  He  would  never  allow  any  grown 
person  but  his  master  to  pet  him ;  and  if  any 
one  tried  to  pat  him  or  make  him  play,  he  would 
walk  away  and  seat  himself  at  a  distance,  with 
an  offended  air  which  seemed  to  say,  "  What  a 
very  silly  person  you  are ;  do  you  not  know 
that  I  am  too  grave  and  wise  a  dog  to  be  pleased 
with  such  nonsense  !  " 

But  he  was  not  so  with  little  children. 
Though  he  would  not  play,  he  let  Susie  and 
Franky  pull  his  ears  and  tail,  and  roll  and 
tumble  over  him  as  much  as  they  liked  without 
giving  them  one  growl.  Maggie  and  Bessie 
were  rather  afraid  of  him  at  first,  but  they  soon 
found  he  was  not  as  fierce  as  he  looked,  and 
after  Mr.  Jones  had  told  them  how  he  saved  a 
little  boy  from  drowning  the  last  summer,  they 
liked  him  better,  and  soon  came  to  have  no  fear 
of  him. 

This  boy  had  been  one  of  those  who  were 


38  Bessie  at  the  Sca-Sidc. 

boarding  in  the  house  last  year,  and  was  a  dis- 
obedient, mischievous  child.  One  day  he 
wanted  to  go  down  on  the  beach,  but  it  was  not 
convenient  for  any  one  to  go  with  him,  and  his 
mother  told  him  he  must  wait.  He  watched 
till  no  one  saw  him,  and  then  ran  off  followed 
by  Toby,  who  seemed  to  know  that  he  was  in 
mischief. 

When  the  child  reached  the  beach,  he  pulled 
off  his  shoes  and  stockings  and  went  to  the 
water's  edge  where  the  waves  could  dash  over 
Ms  feet.  He  went  a  little  farther  and  a  little 
farther,  till  at  last  a  wave  came  which  was  too 
strong  for  him.  It  threw  him  down  and  carried 
him  out  into  deeper  water,  and  in  another  min- 
ute he  would  have  been  beyond  help  had  not 
Toby  dashed  in  and  seized  hold  of  him.  It 
was  hard  work  for  Toby,  for  he  was  not  a  water- 
dog  ;  but  he  held  the  boy  till  a  man,  who  had 
seen  it  all,  came  running  to  his  help  and  pulled 
the  boy  out. 

After  this,  Toby  would  never  let  the  child  go 
near  the  water  all  the  time  he  staid  at  Quam 


The  Letter.  39 

Beach.  If  he  tried  to  go,  Toby  would  take 
hold  of  his  clothes  with  his  teeth,  and  no  coax- 
ings or  scoldings  would  make  him  let  go  till 
the  boy's  face  was  turned  the  other  way. 

Toby  was  of  great  use  to  Mrs.  Jones ;  she 
said  that  he  was  as  good  as  a  nurse.  Every 
day  she  used  to  put  Susie  to  sleep  in  a  room 
at  the  head  of  the  garret  stairs.  Then  she 
would  call  the  dog,  and  leave  him  to  take  care 
of  the  baby  while  she  went  about  her  work  ; 
and  it  seemed  as  if  Toby  knew  the  right  hour 
for  Susie's  nap,  for  he  was  never  out  of  the  way 
at  that  time.  He  would  lie  and  watch  her  till 
she  woke  up,  and  then  go  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs  and  bark  till  Mrs.  Jones  came.  Then 
he  knew  that  his  duty  was  done,  and  he  would 
walk  gravely  down  stairs.  Sometimes  Mrs. 
Jones  put  Susie  on  the  kitchen  floor,  and  left 
Toby  to  look  after  her.  He  would  let  her  crawl 
all  round  unless  she  went  near  the  fire,  or  the 
open  door  or  kitchen  stairs,  when  he  would 
take  her  by  the  waist  and  lift  her  back  to  the 
place  where  her  mother  had  left  her.     Susie 


40  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

would  scold  him  as  well  as  she  knew  how,  and 
pound  him  with  her  little  fist ;  hut  he  did  not 
care  one  bit  for  that. 

After  a  time  Bessie  grew  quite  fond  of  Toby. 
Maggie  did  not  like  him  so  much.  She  liked 
a  dog  who  would  romp  and  play  with  her, 
which  Toby  would  never  do.  If  his  master  or 
mistress  did  not  want  him,  Toby  was  generally 
to  be  found  lying  on  the  porch  or  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  the  bank  above  the  beach,  looking 
down  on  the  people  who  were  walking  or  driv- 
ing there.  Bessie  would  sit  down  beside  him 
and  pat  his  rough  head,  and  talk  to  him  in  a 
sweet,  coaxing  voice,  and  he  would  blink  his 
eyes  at  her  and  flap  his  heavy  tail  upon  the 
ground  in  a  way  that  he  would  do  for  no  one 
else. 

"  Bessie,"  said  Maggie,  one  day,  as  her  sister 
sat  patting  the  great  dog,  "  what  makes  you 
like  Toby  so  much  ;  do  you  think  he  is 
pretty  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Bessie,  "  I  don't  think  he  is 
pretty,  but  I  think  he  is  very  good  and  wise." 


The   Letter.  41 

"  But  he  is  not  so  wise  as  Jemmy  Bent's 
Shock,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  he  does  not  know  any 
funny  tricks." 

Jemmy  Bent  was  a  poor  lame  boy,  and  Shock 
was  his  dog,  —  a  little  Scotch  terrier  with  a 
black  shaggy  coat,  and  a  pair  of  sharp,  bright 
eyes  peeping  out  from  the  long,  wiry  hair  which 
hung  about  his  face.  He  had  been  taught  a 
great  many  tricks,  and  Maggie  thought  him 
a  very  wonderful  dog,  but  Bessie  had  never 
seemed  to  take  much  of  a  fancy  to  him. 

"  But  he  is  very  useful,"  said  Bessie,  "  and 
I  don't  think  Shock  is  pretty  either ;  I  think  he 
is  very  ugly,  Maggie." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  but  then  he  looks 
so  funny  and  smart :  I  think  he  looks  a  great 
deal  nicer  than  Toby." 

"  I  don't,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  don't  like  the  look 
of  Shock  ;  the  first  time  I  saw  him  I  didn't 
think  lie  was  a  dog." 

"  Wbat  did  you  think  he  was  ?  " 

"  I  thought  he  was  a  animal"  said  Bessie, 
"  and  1  was  afraid  of  him." 


42  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  And  are  you  afraid  of  him  now  ?  " 

»*  No,  not  much  ;  but  I  had  rather  he'd  stay 
under  the  bed  when  I  go  to  see  Jemmy." 

"  I  wouldn't,"  said  Maggie,  "  and  I  can't  like 
Toby  so  much  as  Shock.  No,  I  can't,  Toby, 
and  you  need  not  look  at  me  so  about  it." 

Maggie's  opinion  did  not  seem  to  make  the 
least  difference  to  Toby ;  he  only  yawned  and 
blinked  his  eyes  at  her. 

When  Maggie  and  Bessie  had  been  at  Quam 
Beach  about  a  week,  they  woke  one  morning 
to  find  it  was  raining  hard,  and  Mr.  Jones  said 
he  hoped  it  would  keep  on,  for  the  rain  was 
much  needed.  The  little  girls  hoped  it  would 
not,  for  tliey  did  not  like  to  stay  in  the  house 
all  day.  About  eleven  o'clock  they  went  to 
their  mother  and  told  her  they  had  promised 
to  write  a  letter  to  Grandpapa  Duncan,  and 
asked  if  they  might  do  it  now.  Mamma  was 
busy,  and  told  them  that  she  could  not  write 
it  for  them  at  that  time. 

"  But,  mamma,"  said  Maggie,  "  we  don't 
want  you  to  write  it  for  us ;  grandpapa  will 


The  Letter.  43 

like  it  better  if  we  do  it  all  ourselves.  I  can 
print  it,  and  Bessie  will  help  me  make  it  up." 
So  mamma  gave  them  a  sheet  of  paper  and 
a  pencil,  and  they  went  off  in  a  corner  to  write 
their  letter.  They  were  very  busy  over  it  for  a 
long  while.  When  it  was  done  they  brought 
it  to  their  mother  to  see  if  it  was  all  right. 
There  were  a  few  mistakes  in  the  spelling  which 
Mrs.  Bradford  corrected  ;  but  it  was  very  nicely 
printed  for  such  a  little  girl  as  Maggie.  This 
was  the  letter  :  — 

"  Dear  Grandpapa  Duncan,  — 

"  Maggie  and  Bessie  are  making  up  this  letter  , 
but  I  am  printing,  because  Bessie  is  too  little- 
We  hope  you  are  well,  and  Bessie  is  better  and 
I  am  very  well,  thank  you,  and  every  body.  It 
rains,  and  we  have  nothing  to  do,  and  so  we 
are  writing  you  a  letter.  We  like  this  place  ; 
it  is  nice.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  sea  here. 
There  are  two  kittens  here.  Mrs.  Jones  mado 
us  a  turnover.  The  old  cat  is  very  cross. 
Mrs.  Jones  put  currants  in  it,  and  she  put  it 


44  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

in  the  oven  and  the  juice  boiled  out  and  made 
it  sticky,  and  it  was  good  and  we  eat  it  all  up. 
Dear  grandpa,  we  hope  you  are  well.  This  is 
from  us,  Maggie  and  Bessie.  Good-by,  dear 
grandpa.  P.  S. —  We  can't  think  of  anything 
else  to  say.     My  hand  is  tired,  too. 

"  Your  beloved 

"  Maggie  and  Bessie. 
"  Another  P.  S.  —  God  bless  you." 

Mamma  said  it  was  a  very  nice  letter,  and 
she  folded  it  and  put  it  in  an  envelope.  Then 
she  directed  it  to  Mr.  Duncan,  and  put  a  post- 
age stamp  on  it,  so  that  it  was  all  ready  to  go 
with  the  rest  of  the  letters  when  Mr.  Jones 
went  to  the  post-office  in  the  evening. 

But  you  must  learn  a  little  about  the  dear  old 
gentleman  to  whom  the  children  had  been  writ- 
ing. His  name  was  Duncan,  and  he  lived  at  a 
beautiful  place  called  Riverside,  a  short  distance 
from  New  York.  He  was  not  really  the  chil- 
dren's grandfather,  but  his  son,  Mr.  John  Dun- 
can, had  married  their  Aunt  Helen ;  and  as  they 


The  Letter.  45 

were  as  fond  of  him  as  he  was  of  them,  he 
had  taught  them  to  call  him  Grandpapa  Dun- 
can. 

A  little  way  from  Riverside  lived  a  poor  wid- 
ow named  Bent.  She  had  a  son,  who  a  year 
or  two  since  had  fallen  from  a  wall  and  hurt 
his  back,  so  that  the  doctor  said  he  would  never 
walk  or  stand  again.  Day  after  day  he  lay 
upon  his  bed,  sometimes  suffering  very  much, 
but  always  gentle,  patient,  and  uncomplain- 
ing. 

Jemmy  was  often  alone,  for  hours  at  a  time  ; 
for  his  mother  had  to  work  hard  to  get  food 
and  medicine  for  her  sick  boy ;  and  his  sister, 
Mary,  carried  radishes  and  cresses,  and  other 
green  things  to  sell  in  the  streets  of  the  city. 
But  Jemmy's  Bible  and  Prayer-book  were  al- 
ways at  his  side,  and  in  these  the  poor  helpless 
boy  found  comfort  when  he  was  tired  and 
lonely. 

To  buy  a  wheel  chair,  in  which  Jemmy  might 
be  out  of  doors,  and  be  rolled  from  place  to 
place  without  trouble  or  pain  to  himself,  was 


46  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

the  one  great  wish  of  Mrs.  Bent  and  Mary  ; 
and  they  were  trying  to  put  by  money  enough 
for  this.  But  such  a  chair  cost  a  great  deal ; 
and  though  they  saved  every  penny  they  could, 
the  money  came  very  slowly,  and  it  seemed  as 
if  it  would  be  a  long  while  before  Jemmy  had 
his  chair. 

Now  Mrs.  Bradford  was  one  of  Mary's  cus- 
tomers ;  so  it  happened  that  the  children  had 
often  seen  her  when  she  came  with  her  basket 
of  radishes.  Bessie  used  to  call  her  "  yadish- 
es,"  for  she  could  not  pronounce  r  :  but  neither 
she  nor  Maggie  had  ever  heard  of  the  poor  lame 
boy,  till  one  day  when  they  were  at  Riverside. 
Playing  in  the  garden,  they  saw  Mary  sitting 
outside  the  gate,  counting  over  the  money  she 
had  made  by  the  sale  of  her  radishes :  and  as 
they  were  talking  to  her,  it  came  about  that 
she  told  them  of  the  sick  brother  lying  on  his 
bed,  never  able  to  go  out  and  breathe  the  fresh 
air,  or  see  the  beautiful  blue  sky  and  green 
trees,  in  this  lovely  Summer  weather ;  and 
how  she  and    her  mother  were  working  and 


The  Letter.  47 

saving,  that  they  might  have  enough  to  buy 
the  easy  chair. 

Our  little  girls  were  very  much  interested, 
and  went  back  to  the  house  very  eager  and 
anxious  to  help  buy  the  chair  for  Jemmy  ; 
and  finding  Grandpapa  Duncan  on  the  piazza, 
they  told  him  the  whole  story.  Now  our  Mag- 
gie aud  Bessie  had  each  a  very  troublesome 
fault.  Bessie  had  a  quick  temper,  and  was 
apt  to  fly  into  a  passion ;  while  Maggie  was 
exceedingly  careless  and  forgetful,  sometimes 
disobeying  her  parents  from  sheer  heedlessness, 
aud  a  moment's  want  of  thought.  When  Mr. 
Duncan  heard  about  Jemmy  Bent,  he  proposed 
a  little  plan  to  the  children,  that  pleased  them 
very  much. 

This  was  about  a  month  before  they  weio  to 
leave  the  city  for  the  sea-shore.  Grandpapa 
Duncan  promised  that  for  each  day,  during  the 
next  three  weeks,  in  which  Bessie  did  not  lose 
her  temper  and  give  way  to  one  of  her  fits  of 
passion,  or  in  which  Maggie  did  not  fall 
into   any   great   carelessness  or   disobedience, 


48  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

he  would  give  twenty  cents  to  each  little  girl. 
At  the  end  of  three  weeks  this  would  make 
eight  dollars  and  forty  cents.  When  they  had 
earned  this  much  he  would  add  the  rest  of  the 
money  that  was  needed  to  buy  the  wheel  chair, 
and  they  should  have  the  pleasure  of  giving 
it  to  Jemmy  themselves. 

The  children  were  delighted,  and  promised 
to  try  hard,  and  they  did  do  their  best.  But 
it  was  hard  work,  for  they  were  but  little 
girls,  —  Bessie  only  five,  Maggie  not  quite 
seven.  Bessie  had  some  hard  battles  with  her 
temper.  Maggie  had  to  watch  carefully  that 
she  was  not  tempted  into  forgetfulness  and 
disobedience.  And  one  day  Maggie  failed  mis- 
erably, for  she  had  trusted  to  her  own  strength, 
and  not  looked  for  help  from  above.  But 
Grandpapa  Duncan  gave  her  another  trial ; 
and,  as  even  such  young  children  may  do  much 
toward  conquering  their  faults  if  they  try 
with  all  their  hearts,  the  money  was  all  earned, 
the  chair  bought,  and  Maggie  and  Bessie  car- 
ried it  to  lame  Jemmy.     Then  it  would  have 


The  Letter.  49 

been  hard  to  tell  who  were  the  most  pleased, 
the  givers  or  the  receivers. 

Nor  did  Maggie  and  Bessie  cease  after  this 
to  struggle  with  their  faults*  for  from  this  time 
there  was  a  great  improvement  to  be  seen  in 
both. 


IV. 

THE    QUARREL 


R.  JONES  had  another  errand  to  do 
when  he  went  to  the  post-office, 
which  was  to  go  to  the  railway- 
station  for  Harry  and  Fred,  whose  vacation 
had  begun.  Grandmamma  and  Aunt  Annie 
came  with  them,  but  they  went  to  the  hotel, 
and  Maggie  and  Bessie  did  not  see  them  till 
the  next  morning.  How  glad  the  little  girls 
were  to  have  their  brothers  with  them  ;  and 
what  a  pleasure  it  was  to  take  them  round  the 
next  day  and  show  them  all  that  was  to  be 
seen  ! 

"  Maggie  and  Bessie,"  said  Harry,  "  I  saw 
a  great  friend  of  yours  on  Saturday ;  guess 
who  it  was." 

"  Grandpa  Hall,"  said  Maggie. 

"  No  ;  guess  again.     We  went  out  to  River- 


The  £>uarreL  51 

side  to  spend  the  day,  and  it  was  ^here  we  saw 
him." 

"  Oh,  I  know  !  "  said  Bessie,  "  it  was  lame 
Jemmy." 

"  Yes,  it  was  lame  Jemmy,  and  he  was  as 
chirp  as  a  grasshopper.  He  was  sitting  up  in 
his  chair  out  under  the  trees ;  and  you  never 
saw  a  fellow  so  happy,  for  all  he  is  lame. 
Why,  if  I  was  like  him,  and  couldn't  go  about, 
I  should  be  as  cross  as  a  bear." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  wouldn't,  Harry,"  said  Bessie  ; 
"  not  if  you  knew  it  was  God  who  made  you 
lame." 

"  Oh,  but  I  should,  though  ;  I'm  not  half  as 
good  as  he  is." 

"But  you  could  ask  Jesus  to  make  you  good 
and  patient  like  Jemmy,  and  then  He  would." 

"  Well,"  said  Harry,  "  he's  mighty  good,  any- 
how ;  and  Fred  and  I  gave  him  a  first-rate  ride 
in  his  chair  ever  so  far  up  the  road.  He  liked 
it,  I  can  tell  you  ;  and  he  asked  such  lots  of 
questions  about  you  two.  And  what  do  you 
think  he  is  learning  to  do  ?  " 


52  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  What  ?  "  asked  both  his  little  sisters. 

"  To  knit  stockings  for  the  soldiers." 

"  What !  a  boy  ?  "  said  Maggie. 

"  Yes  ;  Aunt  Helen  sent  some  yarn  to  his 
mother  to  knit  socks ;  and  Jemmy  wanted  to 
learn  so  that  he  could  do  something  for  his 
country,  if  he  was  a  lame  boy,  he  said.  Aunt 
Helen  pays  Mrs.  Bent  for  those  she  makes,  but 
Jemmy  told  her  if  he  might  use  some  of  her 
yarn  he  would  like  to  do  it  without  pay,  and 
she  gave  him  leave  ;  so  his  mother  is  teaching 
him,  and  you  would  think  he  is  a  girl  to  see 
how  nicely  he  takes  to  it.  He  is  not  a  bit 
ashamed  of  it  either,  if  it  is  girl's  work." 

"  And  so  he  oughtn't,"  said  Bessie.  "  Girl's 
work  is  very  nice  work." 

"  So  it  is,  Queen  Bess ;  and  girls  are  very 
nice  things  when  they  are  like  our  Midget  and 
Bess." 

"  I  don't  think  boys  are  half  as  nice  as 
girls,"  said  Maggie,  "  except  you  and  Tom, 
Harry." 

"  And  I  "  said  Fred. 


The  Quarrel.  53 

"  Well,  yes,  Fred  ;  when  you  don't  tease  I 
love  you  ;  but  then  you  do  tease,  you  know. 
But  Mamie  Stone  is  not  nice  if  she  is  a  girl ; 
she  is  cross,  and  she  did  a  shocking  thing, 
Harry.  She  pinched  Bessie's  arm  so  it's  all 
black  and  blue.  But  she  was  served  right  for 
it,  'cause  I  just  gave  her  a  good  slap." 

"  But  that  was  naughty  in  you,"  said  Tom, 
who  was  standing  by ;  "  you  should  return 
good  for  evil." 

"  I  sha'n't,  if  she  evils  my  Bessie,"  said 
Maggie,  stoutly.  "  If  she  hurts  me  I  won't  do 
anything  to  her,  but  if  she  hurts  Bessie  I  will, 
and  I  don't  believe  it's  any  harm.  I'm  sure 
there's  a  verse  in  the  Bible  about  it." 

"  About  what,  Maggie  ?  " 

"About,  about, —  why  about  my  loving 
Bessie  and  not  letting  any  one  hurt  her.  I'll 
ask  papa  to  find  one  for  me.  He  can  find  a 
verse  in  the  Bible  about  everything.  Oh, 
now  I  remember  one  myself.  It's  —  little  chil- 
dren love  each  other." 

"  And  so  you  should,"  said  Tom  ;  "  and  it  is 


54  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

very  sweet  to  see  two  little  sisters  always  so 
kind  and  loving  to  each  other  as  you  and  Bes- 
sie are.  But,  Maggie,  .that  verse  does  not 
mean  that  you  should  get  into  a  quarrel  with 
your  other  playmates  for  Bessie's  sake ;  it 
means  that  you  should  love  all  little  children. 
Of  course  you  need  not  love  Mamie  as  much  as 
Bessie,  but  you  ought  to  love  her  enough  to 
make  you  kind  to  her.  And  there's  another 
verse,  —  'blessed  are  the  peace-makers.'  You 
were  not  a  peace-maker  when  you  slapped 
Mamie." 

"  I  sha'n't  be  Mamie's  peace-maker,"  said 
Maggie  ;  "  and,  Tom,  you  ought  to  take  my 
side  and  Bessie's  ;  you  are  very  unkind." 

"  Now  don't  be  vexed,  Midget,"  said  Tom, 
sitting  down  on  a  large  stone,  and  pulling 
Maggie  on  his  knee.  "  I  only  want  to  show 
you  that  it  did  not  make  things  any  better 
for  you  to  slap  Mamie  when  she  pinched  Bes- 
sie. What  happened  next  after  you  slapped 
her  ?  " 

"  She  slapped  me,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  and  then 


The  Quarrel.  55 

I  slapped  her  again,  and  Lily  slapped  her,  too  ; 
it  was  just  good  enough  for  her." 

"  And  what  then  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  Why  Mamie  screamed  and  ran  and  told 
her  mother,  and  Mrs.  Stone  came  and  scolded 
us  ;  and  Jane  showed  her  Bessie's  arm,  and 
she  said  she  didn't  believe  Mamie  meant  to 
hurt  Bessie." 

"  What  a  jolly  row !  "  said  Fred.  "  I  wish 
I  had  been  there  to  see." 

"  Nurse  said  she  wished  she  had  been 
there,"  said  Maggie,  "and  she  would  have  told 
Mrs.  Stone  —  " 

"  Never  mind  that,"  said  Tom  ;  "  there  were 
quite  enough  in  the  quarrel  without  nurse. 
Now,  Maggie,  would  it  not  have  been  far 
better  if  you  had  taken  Bessie  quietly  away 
when  Mamie  hurt  her  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Maggie,  "  because  then  she 
wouldn't  have  been  slapped,  and  she  ought  to 
be." 

"  Well,  I  think  with  you  that  Mamie  was  a 
very  naughty  girl,  and  deserved  to  be    pun 


56  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

ished ;  but  then  it  was  not  your  place  to  do 
it." 

"  But  her  mother  would  not  do  it,"  said 
Maggie  ;  "  she  is  a  weak,  foolish  woman,  and  is 
ruining  that  child." 

The  boys  laughed,  when  Maggie  said  this 
with  such  a  grand  air. 

"  Who  did  you  hear  say  that  ? "  asked 
Harry. 

"Papa,"  said  Maggie,  —  "so  it's  true.  I 
guess  he  didn't  mean  me  to  hear  it,  but  I 
did." 

"Oh,  you  little  pitcher  !  "  cried  Harry  ;  and 
Tom  said,  "  Maggie  dear,  things  may  be  quite 
right  for  your  father  to  say,  that  would  not  be 
proper  for  us ;  because  Mrs.  Stone  is  a  great 
deal  older  than  we  are ;  but  since  we  all  know 
that  she  does  not  take  much  pains  to  make 
Mamie  a  good  and  pleasant  child,  do  you  not 
think  that  this  ought  to  make  us  more  patient 
with  her  when  she  is  fretful  and  quarrel- 
some ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Maggie ;  "  if  her  mother  don't 


The  Quarrel.  57 

make  her  behave,  some  one  else  ought  to.  I 
will  hurt  her  if  she  hurts  Bessie." 

"  Maggie,"  said  Tom,  "  when  wicked  men 
came  to  take  Jesus  Christ  and  carry  him  away 
to  suffer  a  dreadful  death  on  the  cross,  do  you 
remember  what  one  of  the  disciples  did  ?  " 

"  No  ;  tell  me,"  said  Maggie. 

"  He  drew  his  sword  and  cut  off  the  ear  of 
one  of  those  wicked  men  ;  not  because  he  was 
doing  anything  to  him,  but  because  he  was 
ill-treating  the  dear  Lord  whom  he  loved." 

"  I'm  glad  of  it,"  said  Maggie;  "  it  was  just 
good  enough  for  that  bad  man,  and  I  love  that 
disciple." 

"  But  the  Saviour  was  not  glad,"  said  Tom, 
"  for  he  reproved  the  disciple,  and  told  him  to 
put  up  his  sword  ;  and  he  reached  out  his 
hand  and  healed  the  man's  ear." 

"  That  was  because  he  was  Jesus,"  said 
Maggie.     "  I  couldn't  be  so  good  as  Jesus." 

"  No,  we  cannot  be  as  holy  and  good  as 
Jesus,  for  he  was  without  sin  ;  but  we  can  try 
to  be  like  him,  and  then  he  will  love  us  and  be 


58  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

pleased  with  what  he  knows  we  wish  to  do. 
Maggie,  the  other  day  I  heard  you  saying  to 
your  mother  that  pretty  hymn,  '  I  am  Jesus' 
Little  Lamb ; '  now,  if  you  are  really  one  of 
Jesus'  little  lambs  you  will  also  be  one  of 
his  blessed  peace-makers.  I  think  if  you  and 
Lily  had  not  struck  Mamie,  she  would  have 
felt  much  more  sorry  and  ashamed  than  she 
does  now,  when  she  thinks  that  you  have  hurt 
her  as  much  as  she  hurt  Bessie." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  be  a  peace-maker  with 
Mamie,  now  ?  "  asked  Maggie. 

"  Yes,  if  you  are  not  friends  with  her  yet." 

"  Oh,  no,  we  are  not  friends  at  all,"  said 
Maggie  ;  "  for  she  runs  away  every  time  she 
sees  Lily  or  me ;  and  we  make  faces  at  her." 

"  And  do  you  like  to  have  it  so  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Maggie  slowly,  "  I  think  I  do  ; 
I  like  to  see  her  run." 

"  And  do  you  think  it  is  like  Jesus'  little 
lamb  for  you  to  feel  so." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not ;  I  guess  it's  pretty 
naughty,  and  I  won't  make  faces  at  her  any 


The  Quarrel.  59 

more.  What  shall  I  do  to  make  friends, 
Tom  ? " 

"  Well,"  said  Tom,  "  I  cannot  tell  exactly  ; 
but  suppose  the  next  time  that  Mamie  runs 
away  from  you,  you  call  her  to  come  and  play 
with  you ;  will  not  that  show  her  that  you 
wish  to  be  at  peace  again  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  and  if  you  think 
Jesus  would  want  me  to,  I'll  do  it ;  but,  Tom, 
we'll  be  very  sorry  if  she  comes.  You  don't 
know  what  an  uncomfortable  child  she  is  to 
play  with;  she's  as  cross  as — as  cross  as  — 
nine  sticks." 

"  Perhaps  you'll  find  some  other  way,"  said 
Tom,  who  could  not  help  smiling.  "  If  we 
wish  for  a  chance  to  do  good  to  a  person  we 
can  generally  find  one.  But  I  must  go,  for 
there  is  father  beckoning  to  me  to  come  out 
in  the  boat  with  him.  You  will  think  of  what 
1  have  said,  will  you  not,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Ob,  yes  I  will,  and  I  will  do  it  too,  Tom  ; 
and  if  Mamie  pinches  Bessie  again,  I  won't 


60  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

slap  her,  but  only  give  her  a  good  push,  and 
then  we'll  run  away  from  her." 

Tom  did  not  think  that  this  was  exactly  the 
way  to  make  friends,  but  he  had  not  time  to 
say  anything  more,  for  his  father  was  wait- 
ing. 


V. 

TOM'S    SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 

HERE'S  Tom,"  said  Maggie,  on  the 
next  Sunday  afternoon,  as  she  looked 
out  of  the  window  ;  "  he  is  talking  to 
Mr.  Jones,  and  now  they  are  going  to  the 
barn.  I  wonder  if  he  is  going  to  swing  on 
Sunday." 

"  Why,  Maggie,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  Tom 
wouldn't  do  such  a  thing." 

"  I  thought  maybe  he  forgot,"  said  Maggie. 
"  I  forgot  it  was  Sunday  this  morning,  and  I 
was  just  going  to  ask  Mr.  Jones  to  swing  me. 
I  wonder  what  they  are  doing.  I  can  see  in 
the  door  of  the  barn  and  they  are  busy  with 
the  hay.     Come  and  look,  Bessie." 

Tom  and  Mr.  Jones  seemed  to  be  very  busy 
in  the  barn  for  a  few  minutes,  but  the  little 
girls  could  not  make  out  what  they  were 
doing.      At  last  Tom  came  out  and  walked 


62  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

over  to  the  house.  Maggie  and  Bessie  ran  to 
meet  him. 

"  Here  you  are,"  he  said,  "  the  very  little 
people  I  wanted  to  see.  I  am  going  to  have 
a  Sunday-school  class  in  the  barn.  Mr.  Jones 
has  given  me  leave,  for  I  could  find  no  place 
over  at  the  hotel.  We  have  been  making 
seats  in  the  hay.     Will  you  come  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed  we  will,"  said  Maggie, 
clapping  her  hands. 

Bessie  shook  her  head  sorrowfully.  "  Tom," 
she  said,  "  mamma  wont  let  me  go  to  Sun- 
day-school ;  she  says  I  am  too  little." 

"  I  think  she  will  let  you  go  to  mine,"  said 
Tom  ;  "  we'll  go  and  ask  her." 

They  all  went  in  together  to  the  room  where 
papa  and  mamma  sat  reading.  "  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford," said  Tom,  when  he  had  shaken  hands 
with  her,  "  I  am  going  to  hold  a  little  Sunday- 
school  class  over  in  the  barn  ;  will  you  let 
Maggie  and  Bessie  come  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford.  "  Who  are 
you  to  have,  Tom  ?  " 


Tout's  Sunday-School.  63 

14  Only  Lily,  ma'am,  and  Mamie  Stone,  and 
a  few  more  of  the  little  ones  from  the  hotel ; 
they  were  running  about  and  making  a  great 
noise  in  the  hall  and  parlors,  and  I  thought  I 
could  keep  them  quiet  for  a  while  if  Mr. 
Jones  would  let  me  bring  them  over  to  his 
barn,  and  have  a  Sunday-school  there.  Wal 
ter  is  coming  to  help  me." 

"  A  good  plan,  too,"  said  Mr.  Bradford ; 
"you  are  a  kind  boy  to  think  of  it,  Tom." 

"  May  I  come  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

"  And  I,  too  ?  "  said  Fred. 

"  I  don't  know  about  you,  Fred,"  said  Tom  ; 
"  I  should  like  to  have  Harry,  for  neither  Wal- 
ter nor  I  can  sing,  and  we  want  some  one  to 
set  the  tunes  for  the  little  ones.  But  I  am 
afraid  you  will  make  mischief." 

"  Indeed  I  won't,  Tom.  Let  me  come  and 
I  will  be  as  quiet  as  a  mouse,  and  give  you 
leave  to  turn  me  out  if  I  do  the  first  thing." 

"  Well,  then,  you  may  come,  but  I  shall 
bold  you  to  your  word  and  send  you  away  if 
you  make  the  least  disturbance.  I  don't  mean 
this  for  play." 


64  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Honor  bright,"  said  Fred. 

They  all  went  out  and  met  Walter  who  was 
coming  up  the  path  with  a  troop  of  little  ones 
after  him.  There  were  Lily  and  Eddie  Nor- 
ris,  Grade  Howard,  Mamie  Stone,  Julia  and 
Charlie  Bolton,  and  half  a  dozen  more  beside. 

Tom  marched  them  into  the  barn,  where  he 
and  Mr,  Jones  had  arranged  the  school-room. 

And  a  fine  school-room  the  children  thought 
it ;  better  than  those  in  the  city  to  which  some 
of  them  went  every  Sunday.  There  were  two 
long  piles  of  hay  with  boards  laid  on  top  of 
them,  —  one  covered  with  a  buffalo  robe,  the 
other  with  a  couple  of  sheep  skins,  making 
nice  seats.  In  front  of  these  was  Tom's  place, 
—  an  empty  barrel  turned  upside-down  for  his 
desk,  and  Fred's  velocipede  for  his  seat.  The 
children  did  not  in  the  least  care  that  hay  was 
strewn  all  over  the  floor,  or  that  the  old  horse 
who  was  in  the  other  part  of  the  barn,  would 
now  and  then  put  his  nose  through  the  little 
opening  above  his  manger,  and  look  in  at  them 
as  if  he  wondered  what  they  were  about. 


Tom's  Sunday-School.  65 

"  Oh,  isn't  this  splendid  ?  "  said  Maggie. 
"  It  is  better  than  our  Infant  school-room,  in 
Dr.  Hill's  church." 

"  So  it  is,  said  Lily.  "  I  wish  we  always 
went  to  Sunday-school  here,  and  had  Tom  for 
our  teacher." 

Some  of  the  little  ones  wanted  to  play,  and 
began  to  throw  hay  at  each  other ;  but  Tom 
put  a  stop  to  this ;  he  had  not  brought  them 
there  to  romp,  he  said,  and  those  who  wanted 
to  be  noisy  must  go  away.  Then  he  told  them 
all  to  take  their  seats. 

Maggie  had  already  taken  hers  on  the  end 
of  one  of  the  hay  benches,  with  Bessie  next  to 
her,  and  Lily  on  the  other  side  of  Bessie. 
Gracie  Howard  sat  down  by  Lily,  and  Mamie 
Stone  was  going  to  take  her  place  next,  when 
Gracie  said,  "  You  sha'n't  sit  by  me,  Mamie." 

"  Nor  by  me,"  said  Lily. 

"  Nor  me,  nor  me,"  said  two  or  three  of  the 
others. 

Now  Mamie  saw  how  she  had  made  the 
other  children  dislike  her  by  her  ill-humor  and 


66  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

unkindness,  and  she  did  not  find  it  at  all 
pleasant  to  stand  there  and  have  them  all  say- 
ing they  would  not  sit  by  her. 

"  I  want  to  go  home,"  she  said,  while  her 
face  grew  very  red,  and  she  looked  as  if  she 
were  going  to  cry. 

"  Who  is  going  to  be  kind,  and  sit  by 
Mamie,"  asked  Tom. 

"  I  should  think  none  of  them  who  know 
how  she  can  pinch,"  said  Fred. 

"  Oh,  we  are  going  to  forget  all  that,"  said 
Tom.  "  Come,  children,  make  room  for 
Mamie." 

"  This  bench  is  full,"  said  Lily,  "  she  can't 
come  here." 

Mamie  began  to  cry.  "  There  is  plenty  of 
room  on  the  other  bench,"  said  Tom  ;  "  sit 
there,  Mamie." 

"  I  don't  want  to,"  answered  Mamie ; 
"  there's  nothing  but  boys  there,  and  I  want 
to  go  home." 

"  Why,"  said  Tom,  "  what  a  bad  thing  that 
would  be,  to  begin  our  Sunday-school  by  hav- 


Tom's  Sunday-School.  67 

ing  one  of  our  little  scholars  go  home  because 
none  of  the  rest  will  sit  by  her.  That  will 
never  do." 

All  this  time  Maggie  had  sat  quite  still, 
looking  at  Mamie,  She  was  thinking  of  what 
Tom  had  said  to  her,  and  of  being  Jesus'  little 
lamb.  Here  was  a  chance  to  show  Mamie  that 
she  was  ready  to  be  friends  with  her,  but  it 
was  hard  work.  She  did  not  at  all  like  to  go 
away  from  her  little  sister  whom  she  loved  so 
much,  to  sit  by  Mamie  whom  she  did  not  love 
at  all,  and  who  had  been  so  unkind  to  Bessie. 
She  rose  up  slowly  from  her  seat,  with  cheeks 
as  red  as  Mamie's  and  said, — 

"  Tom,  I'll  go  on  the  other  seat  and  sit  by 
Mamie." 

"  And  just  get  pinched  for  it,"  said  Lily : 
"  stay  with  us,  Maggie." 

Mamie  took  her  hand  down  from  her  face 
and  looked  at  Maggie  with  great  surprise. 

"  She  wants  some  one  to  sit  with  her,"  said 
Maggie,  "  and  I  had  better  go." 

"  Maggie  is  doing  as  she  would  bo  done  by," 
said  Tom. 


68  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Then  Maggie  felt  glad,  for  she  knew  she  was 
doing  right.  "  Come,  Mamie,"  she  said,  and 
she  took  hold  of  Mamie's  hand,  and  they  sat 
down  together  on  the  other  bench. 

"  You  are  a  good  girl,  Midget,"  said  Harry, 
"  and  it's  more  than  you  deserve,  Miss 
Mamie." 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  Mamie.  "  I  love  Mag- 
gie, and  I  don't  love  any  of  the  rest  of  you, 
except  only  Tom." 

Here  Tom  called  his  school  to  order  and 
said  there  must  be  no  more  talking,  for  he  was 
going  to  read,  and  all  must  be  quiet.  Ho 
went  behind  his  barrel-desk,  and  opening  his 
Bible,  read  to  them  about  the  Saviour  blessing 
little  children.  Then  they  sang,  "  I  want  to 
be  an  AngeJ."  Harry  and  Fred,  with  their 
beautiful  clear  voices,  started  the  tune,  and  all 
the  children  joined  in,  for  every  one  of  them 
knew  the  pretty  hymn. 

Next,  Tom  read  how  Jesus  was  born  in 
Bethlehem  of  Judea,  in  a  rough  stable  and 
laid  not  in  a  pretty  cradle  such  as  their  baby 


Bessie  at  Sea  Side. 


p.  (58. 


Tom's  Sunday-School.  69 

broihers  and  sisters  slept  in,  but  in  a  manger 
where  the  wise  men  of  the  east  came  and  wor- 
shipped Him  :  and  how  after  Joseph  and  Mary 
Had  been  told  by  God  to  fly  into  the  land  of 
Egypt  with  the  infant  Saviour,  the  wicked 
king,  Herod,  killed  all  the  dear  little  babies  in 
the  land,  with  the  hope  that  Jesus  might  be 
among  them.  When  he  came  to  any  thing 
which  he  thought  the  children  would  not 
understand,  he  stopped  and  explained  it  to 
them.  "  Now  we  will  sing  again,"  he  said, 
when  he  had  done  reading,  "  and  the  girls 
shall  choose  the  hymns.  Maggie  ,dear,  what 
shall  we  sing  first  ?  " 

Maggie  knew  what  she  would  like,  but 
she  was  too  shy  to  tell,  and  she  looked  at 
Tom  without  speaking  Tom  thought  he 
knew,  and  said,  "  I'll  choose  for  you,  then. 
We  will  sing,  '  Jesus,  little  lamb  ; '  whoever 
knows  it,  hold  up  their  hand." 

Half  a  dozen  little  hands  went  up,  but  Tom 
saw  that  all  the  children  did  not  know  it, 
"What   shall    we    do?"    he   said.     "Maggie 


70  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

would  like  that  best,  I  think  ;  but  I  suppose  all 
want  to  sing,  and  some  do  not  know  the 
words." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Gracie  Howard,  who 
was  one  of  those  who  had  not  held  up  her 
hand,  "  if  Maggie  wants  it  we'll  sing  it, 
because  she  was  so  good  and  went  and  sat  by 
Mamie.  If  we  don't  know  the  words  we  can 
holler  out  the  tune  all  the  louder." 

Some  of  the  children  began  to  laugh  when 
Gracie  said  this,  but  Tom  said,  "  I  have  a  bet- 
ter plan  than  that.  I  will  say  the  first  verse 
over  three  or  four  times,  line  by  line,  and  you 
may  repeat  it  after  me  ;  then  we  will  sing  it, 
and  so  go  on  with  the  next  verse." 

This  was  done.  Tom  said  the  lines  slowly 
and  distinctly,  and  those  who  did  not  know 
the  hymn  repeated  them.  While  they  were 
learning  the  first  verse  in  this  way,  Mamie 
whispered  to  Maggie,  "  Maggie,  I  love  you." 

"  Do  you  ?  "  said  Maggie,  as  if  she  could 
not  quite  believe  it. 

"  Yes,  because  you  are  good  ;  don't  you  love 
me.  Masrsie  ?  " 


Touts  Sunday-School.  71 

"  Well,  no,  not  much,"  said  Maggie,  "  but 
I'll  try  to." 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  said  Mamie  ;  "  and  I 
wont  snatch  your  things,  nor  slap  you,  nor  do 
anything." 

"  I'll  love  you  if  you  do  a  favor  to  me," 
said  Maggie. 

"  Yes,  I  will,  if  it  is  not  to  give  you  my  new 
crying  baby." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  your  crying  baby,  nor 
any  of  your  toys,"  said  Maggie.  "  I  only 
want  you  to  promise  that  you  won't  pinch  my 
Bessie  again.  Why,  Mamie,  you  ought  to  be 
more  ashamed  of  yourself  than  any  girl  that 
ever  lived  ;  her  arm  is  all  black  and  blue 
yet." 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  hurt  her  so  much,"  said 
Mamie,  "  and  I  was  sorry  when  Bessie  cried 
so  ;  but  then  you  slapped  me,  and  Lily  slapped 
me,  and  Jane  scolded  me,  and  so  I  didn't  care, 
but  was  glad  I  did  it ;  but  I  am  sorry,  now, 
and  I'll  never  do  it  again." 

"  And  I  sha'n't  slap  you,  if  you  do,"  sair 
Maggie. 


72  Bessie  at  the  Sea-bide. 

"  What  will  you  do,  then  ?  " 

"  I'll  just  take  Bessie  away,  and  leave  yon 
to  your  own  'flections." 

"  1  don't  know  what  that  means,"  said 
Mamie. 

"  I  don't,  either,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  but  I 
heard  papa  say  it,  so  I  said  it.  I  like  to  say 
words  that  big  people  say.  Bessie  won't  say  a 
word  if  she  don't  know  what  it  means  ;  but  I'd 
just  as  lief.     I  guess  it  means  conscience." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  it  does,  too,"  said  Mamie, 
"  for  Walter  said  he  should  think  I'd  have  a 
troubled  conscience  for  hurting  Bessie  so  ;  but 
I  didn't.  And  Tom  talked  to  me  too ;  but  I 
didn't  care  a  bit,  till  you  came  to  sit  by  me, 
Maggie,  and  now  I  am  sorry.  Did  you  tell 
Tom  about  it  ?  " 

"  I  talked  to  him  about  it,  but  he  knew 
before.  Why,  everybody  knew,  Mamie,  be- 
cause your  mamma  made  such  an  awful  fuss 
about  those  little  slaps." 

Now  Maggie  made  a  mistake  in  saying  this ; 
she  did  not  mean  it  to  vex  Mamie,  but  it  did. 


Toirfs  Sunday -School.  73 

"  They  were  not  little  slaps,"  she  said,  "  the)* 
were  hard  slaps,  and  they  hurt ;  and  you 
sha'n't  say  my  maninia  makes  an  awful 
fuss."/ 

Before  Maggie  had  time  to  answer,  Tom 
called  upon  the  children  to  sing,  and  Maggie 
joined  in  with  her  whole  heart.  The  first 
verse  was  sung  over  twice ;  and  by  the  time 
this  was  done,  Mamie  felt  good-natured  again, 
for  she  remembered  how  Maggie  had  come  to 
sit  with  her  when  none  of  the  other  little  girls 
would  do  so.  She  had  been  quite  surprised 
when  Maggie  had  offered  to  do  it,  and  had 
thought  that  she  could  not  tave  been  so 
good. 

"  I'll  never  be  cross  with  Maggie  again," 
she  said  to  herself. 

When  Tom  began  to  teach  the  second  verse 
she  whispered,  "  Maggie,  will  you  kiss  me  and 
make  up  ? " 

"  Yes,  by  and  by,  when  some  of  the  other 
children  arc  gone,"  said  Maggie. 

"  Whv  won't  you  do  it,  now  ?  " 


74  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  I  don't  like  to  do  it  before  them  ;  I'm 
afraid  they'll  think  I  want  them  to  see." 

When  Tom  thought  the  children  all  knew 
the  hymn  pretty  well,  they  sang  it  over  two  or 
three  times,  and  then  he  told  them  a  story. 
After  they  had  sung  once  more,  he  dismissed 
the  school ;  for  he  did  not  want  to  keep  them 
too  long,  lest  the  little  ones  should  be  tired. 
He  invited  all  those  who  liked  it,  to  come 
again  the  next  Sunday  afternoon,  for  Mr. 
Jones  had  said  that  they  might  have  Sunday- 
school  in  the  barn  as  often  as  they  liked. 
Every  one  of  the  children  said  that  they 
would  come.  "When  most  of  them  had  left  the 
barn,  Maggie  said,  "  Now  I  will  kiss  you, 
Mamie." 

"I  want  to  kiss  Bessie,  too,"  said  Mamie, 
as  the  little  girl  came  running  up  to  her  sis- 
ter ;  "  will  you  kiss  me,  Bessie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Bessie ;  and  Mamie  kissed 
Doth  of  her  little  playmates,  and  so  there  was 
v«eace  between  them  once  more. 


VI. 

THE  POST-OFFICE 


N  Monday  Mr.  Bradford  went  up  to 
New  York  to  attend  to  some  business. 
He  was  to  come  back  on  Wednesday 
afternoon  ;  and  on  the  morning  of  that  day, 
grandmamma  sent  over  to  know  if  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford would  like  to  have  her  carriage,  and  drive 
to  the  railway  station  to  meet  him.  Mamma 
said  yes  ;  and  told  Maggie  and  Bessie  they 
might  go  with  her.  She  offered  to  take  Harry 
and  Fred,  too  ;  but  they  wanted  to  go  clam- 
fishing  with  Mr.  Jones  ;  so  she  took  Franky 
and  baby  instead,  and  carried  baby  herself, 
telling  nurse  and  Jane  that  they  might  have 
a  holiday  for  the  afternoon.  The  little  girls 
were  delighted  at  the  thought  of  going  to 
'urct  their  dear  father  ;  for  he  had  been  gone 
uiree  days,  and  they  had  missed  him  very 
much. 


*]6  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

The  first  part  of  the  ride  was  through  the 
sand,  where  the  wheels  went  in  so  deep  that 
the  horses  had  hard  work  to  draw  the  carriage 
and  went  very  slowly,  but  the  children  did  not 
mind  that  at  all.  They  liked  to  hear  the 
sound  of  the  wheels  grating  through  the  sand, 
and  to  watch  how  they  took  it  up  and  threw  it 
off  again  as  they  moved  round  and  round. 
At  last  the  carriage  turned  off  to  the  right, 
and  now  the  road  was  firmer  and  harder,  and, 
after  a  time,  ran  through  the  woods.  This  was 
delightful,  it  was  so  cool  and  shady.  Baby 
seemed  to  think  this  was  a  good  place  for  a 
nap,  for  she  began  to  shut  her  eyes  and  nod 
her  little  head  about,  till  mamma  laid  her 
down  in  her  lap,  where  she  went  fast  asleep. 
James  took  Franky  in  front  with  him  and  let 
him  hold  the  end  of  the  reins,  and  Franky 
thought  he  was  driving  quite  as  much  as  the 
good-natured  coachman,  and  kept  calling  out 
"  Get  up,"  and  "  Whoa,"  which  the  horses  d*d 
not  care  for  in  the  least. 

There  was  a  little  stream  which  ran  a!U»-.2 


The  Post-0  fee.  77 

b<  the  side  of  the  road,  and  at  last  bent  itself 
right  across  it,  so  that  the  carriage  had  to  go 
over  a  small  bridge.  Just  beyond  the  bridge 
the  stream  widened  into  quite  a  large  pool. 
James  drove  his  horses  into  it,  and  stopped  to 
let  them  take  a  drink. 

It  was  a  lovely,  shady  spot.  The  trees  grew 
close  around  the  pool  and  met  overhead,  and 
there  were  a  number  of  small  purple  flowers 
growing  all  around.  James  tried  to  reach 
some  of  them  with  his  whip,  but  they  were 
too  far  away,  so  the  children  were  disap- 
pointed. When  the  horses  had  stopped  drink- 
ing, there  was  not  a  sound  to  be  heard  but  the 
twittering  of  the  birds  in  the  branches,  and 
the  little  ripple  of  the  water  as  it  flowed  over 
the  stones. 

"  Let's  stay  here  a  great  while,  mamma," 
said  Bessie,  "  it  is  so  pleasant." 

"  And  what  would  papa  do  when  he  came 
and  found  no  one  waiting  for  him  ?  "  said  Mrs. 
Bradford. 

"  Oh,  yes !   let   us  make  haste  then,"  said 


78  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

Bessie ;  "  we  mustn't  make  him  disappointed 
for  a  million  waters." 

But  mamma  said  there  was  time  enough  :  so 
they  staid  a  few  moments  longer,  and  then 
drove  on.  At  last  they  passed  from  the  beau- 
tiful green  wood  into  a  space  where  there  was 
no  shade.  There  were  bushes  and  very  small 
trees  to  be  sure,  but  they  were  low  and  scrubby 
and  grew  close  together  in  a  kind  of  tangled 
thicket.  These  reached  as  far  as  they  could 
see  on  either  side,  and  came  so  near  to  the 
edge  of  the  road,  that  once,  when  James  had 
to  make  way  for  a  heavy  hay  wagon,  and  drew 
in  his  horses  to  let  it  pass,  Maggie  stretched 
her  hand  out  of  the  carriage  and  pulled  some 
sprigs  from  one  of  the  bushes. 

"  Mamma,  do  you  know  that  funny  old 
man?  "  asked  Bessie,  as  the  driver  of  the  hay 
wagon  nodded  to  her  mother,  and  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford smiled  and  nodded  pleasantly  in  return. 

"No,  dear;  but  in  these  lonely  country 
places  it  is  the  custom  for  people  to  nod  when 
they  pass  each  other." 


The  Post- Office.  79 

"Why,  we  don't  do  that  in  New  York," 
said  Maggie. 

"  No,  it  would  be  too  troublesome  to  speak 
to  every  one  whom  we  met  in  the  streets  of  a 
great  city  ;  and  people  there  would  think  it 
very  strange  and  impertinent  if  you  bowed  to 
them  when  you  did  not  know  them." 

"  Mamma,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  don't  like  the 
kind  of  country  there  is  here,  at  all.  What 
makes  all  these  bushes  grow  here  ?  " 

Then  mamma  told  how  all  this  ground  was 
once  covered  with  just  such  beautiful  woods  as 
they  had  passed  through,  and  how  they  were 
set  on  fire  by  the  sparks  from  a  train  of  cars, 
how  the  fire  spread  for  miles  and  miles,  and 
burned  for  many  days ;  and  the  people  could 
do  nothing  to  stop  it,  until  God  sent  a  chango 
of  wind  and  a  heavy  rain  which  put  it  out. 
She  told  them  how  many  poor  people  were 
burnt  out  of  their  houses,  and  how  the  little 
birds  and  squirrels  and  other  animals  were 
driven  from  their  cosy  homes  in  tlie  woods, 
«uiu  many  of  them  scorched  to  death  by  this 


80  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

terrible  fire.  Then  for  a  long  time  the  ground 
where  these  woods  had  grown  was  only  covered 
with  ashes  and  charred  logs,  till  at  last  these 
tangled  bushes  had  sprung  up.  Mamma  said 
she  supposed  that  by  and  by  the  people  would 
cut  down  the  underbrush,  and  then  the  young 
trees  would  have  space  to  grow. 

By  the  time  she  had  finished  her  long  story 
they  readied  the  Station  and  found  that  they 
had  a  few  moments  to  wait,  for  it  was  not  yet 
quite  time  for  the  train. 

There  was  a  locomotive  standing  on  the 
track,  and  when  the  horses  saw  it  they  began 
to  prick  up  their  ears  and  to  dance  a  little ;  so 
James  turned  their  heads  and  drove  them  up 
by  the  side  of  the  depot,  where  they  could  not 
see  it.  On  the  other  side  of  the  road  was  a 
small,  white  building,  and  over  the  door  was 
a  sign  with  large  black  letters  upon  it. 

"  P-O-S-T,  porst,"  spelled  Maggie. 

"  Post,"  said  mamma. 

"  Post,  0  double  F." 

u  O-F,  of,"  said  mamma  again. 


The  Post-Office.  81 

"  0-F,  of,  iVL-C-E ;  oh,  it's  the  post-office. 
I  wonder  if  there  is  a  letter  there  for  us  from 
Grandpapa  Duncan." 

"Perhaps  there  may  be,"  said  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford. "  I  told  Mr.  Jones  we  would  inquire 
for  the  letters.  James,  will  it  do  for  you  to 
leave  the  horses  ?  " 

"  I  think  not,  ma'am,"  said  James.  "  They 
are  a  little  onasy  yet,  and  if  she  squales  they'll 
run." 

"  And  I  cannot  go  because  of  baby,"  said 
mamma ;  "  we  must  wait  till  papa  comes." 

"  I  wish  we  could  get  our  letter  if  it  is 
there,"  said  Maggie ;  "  we  could  read  it  while 
we  are  waiting  for  papa." 

u  There's  a  nice  civil  man  there,  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford," said  James,  "  and  if  you  didn't  mind 
Miss  Maggie  going  over,  I  could  lift  her  out, 
and  he'll  wait  on  her  as  if  it  was  yourself." 

"  Oh,  James,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  I  couldn't  do 
it,  not  for  anything.  I  couldn't  indeed, 
mamma." 

"  Well,  dear,  you  need  not,  if  you  are 
afraid."         A 


82  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  But  I  would  like  to  have  our  letter  so 
much,  mamma." 

"  So  would  I,"  said  Bessie.  "  And  when 
dear  papa  comes  we  will  want  to  talk  to  him 
and  not  to  yead  our  letter." 

"  Maybe  it  is  not  there,"  said  Maggie. 

"  But  we  would  like  to  know,"  said  Bessie. 
"  Could  I  go,  mamma  ?  " 

"  You  are  almost  too  little  I  think,  dear." 

"  Well,"  said  Maggie,  slowly,  "  I  guess  I'll 
go.  Mamma,  will  you  look  at  me  all  the 
time  ? " 

"  Yes,  dear,  and  there  is  nothing  to  hurt 
you.  Just  walk  in  at  that  door,  and  you  will 
see  a  man  there.  Ask  him  if  there  are  any 
letters  to  go  to  Mr.  Jones's  house." 

"  Yes,  mamma,  and  be  very  sure  you  watch 
all  the  time." 

James  came  down  from  his  seat  and  lifted 
Maggie  from  the  carriage.  She  walked  very 
slowly  across  the  road,  every  step  or  two  look- 
ing back  to  see  if  her  mother  was  watching 
her.     Mrs.    Bradford   smiled   and    nodded  to 


The  Post-Office.  83 

her,  and  at  last  Maggie  went  in  at  the  door. 
But  the  moment  she  was  inside,  her  mother 
saw  her  turn  round  and  fly  out  of  the  post- 
office  as  if  she  thought  something  terrible  was 
after  her.  She  tore  back  across  the  road  and 
came  up  to  the  carriage  looking  very  much 
frightened. 

"  Why,  Maggie,  what  is  it,  dear  ?  "  asked  her 
mother. 

"  Oh,  mamma,  there  is  a  hole  there,  and  a 
man  put  his  face  in  it ;  please  put  me  in  the 
carriage,  James." 

"  Oh,  foolish  little  Maggie,"  said  mamma ; 
"  that  man  was  the  post-master,  and  he  came 
to  the  hole  as  you  call  it,  to  see  what  you 
wanted.  If  you  had  waited  and  told  him,  he 
would  have  looked  to  see  if  there  were  any 
letters  for  us." 

"  lie  had  such  queer  spectacles  on,"  said 
Maggie. 

'*  I  wish  I  could  go,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  I 
wouldn't  be  afraid  of  him.  I  do  want  to  know 
if  Grandpapa  Duncan's  letter  is  there." 


84  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Then  you  may  try,"  said  her  mother ; 
"  take  her  out,  James." 

So  Bessie  was  lifted  out  of  the  carriage,  and 
went  across  the  road  as  Maggie  had  done. 
She  walked  into  the  post-office  and  saw  the 
hole  Maggie  had  spoken  of,  but  no  one  was 
looking  out  of  it.  It  was  a  square  opening 
cut  in  a  wooden  partition  which  divided  the 
post-office.  On  one  side  was  the  place  where 
Bessie  stood,  and  where  people  came  to  ask 
for  their  letters ;  on  the  other  was  the  post- 
master's room,  where  he  kept  the  letters  and 
papers  till  they  were  called  for. 

Bessie  looked  around  and  saw  no  one.  She 
always  moved  very  gently,  and  she  had  come 
in  so  quietly  that  the  post-master  had  not  heard 
her.  There  was  a  chair  standing  in  front  of 
"  the  hole."  Bessie  pushed  it  closer,  and 
climbing  upon  it,  put  her  little  face  through, 
and  looked  into  the  post-master's  side  of  the 
room.  He  was  sitting  there  reading.  He  was 
an  ugly  old  man,  and  wore  green  goggles, 
which  Maggie  had  called  "  such  queer  specta- 
cles."    But  Bessie  was  not  afraid  of  him. 


The  Post-Office.  85 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Post  Officer?"  she 
said,  "  I  came  for  our  letter." 

The  post-master  looked  up.  "  Well,  you're 
a  big  one  to  send  after  a  letter,"  he  said. 
"  Who  is  it  for  ?  " 

"  For  Maggie  and  me,  and  it  is  from  Grand- 
papa Duncan  ;  has  it  come  ?  " 

"  Where  are  you  from  ?  "  asked  the  post- 
master, laughing. 

"  From  Mr.  Jones's  house.  Oh,  I  forgot, 
mamma  said  I  was  to  ask  if  any  letters  had 
come  for  Mr.  Jones's  house." 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  are  Mr.  Bradford's 
daughter  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  said  Bessie. 

"  And  are  you  the  little  girl  who  came  in 
here  just  now,  and  ran  right  out  again  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  sir  ;  that  was  Maggie.  Poor  Mag- 
gie is  shy,  and  she  said  you  looked  out  of  a 
hole  at  her." 

"  And  you  looked  in  a  hole  at  me,  but  1 
did  not  run  away.  If  I  was  to  run  away  you 
could  not  get  your  letter." 


86  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Is  it  here,  sir  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  Well,  I  reckon  it  may  be,"  said  the  post- 
master ;  "  what's  your  name  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Bessie,  and  my  sister's  is 
Maggie." 

"  Here  is  one  apiece  then,"  said  the  post-mas- 
ter, taking  up  some  letters.  "  Here  is  one  for 
Miss  Bessie  Bradford;  that's  you,  is  it?  and 
one  for  Miss  Maggie  Bradford,  that's  your  sis- 
ter, I  reckon." 

"  What !  one  for  myself,  and  one  for  Mag 
gie's  self,"  said  Bessie.  "  Are  they  from 
Grandpapa  Duncan  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  post-master. 
"  You  will  have  to  open  them  to  find  that 
out." 

"  Oh,  how  nice  ;  please  let  me  have  them, 
sir;  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you." 

"  Stop,  stop,"  cried  the  post-master,  as  Bes- 
sie jumped  down  from  the  chair,  and  was  run- 
ning off  with  her  prizes.  "  Here  are  some 
more  papers  and  letters  for  your  folks." 

But   Bessie    did    not   hear    him  ;    she    was 


The  Post-Office.  87 

already  out  of  the  door,  running  over  to  the 
carriage  with  flushed  cheeks  and  sparkling 
eyes,  holding  up  a  letter  in  each  hand.  "  Oh, 
Maggie,  Maggie,"  she  called,  "  that  nice  post- 
officer  gave  me  two  letters,  one  for  you,  and 
one  for  me  ;  wasn't  he  kind  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  was  a  kind  Grandpapa  Duncan, 
who  took  the  trouble  to  write  two  letters,"  said 
Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  So  it  was,"  said  Maggie.  "  Mamma,  will 
you  read  them  for  us  ?  " 

"  In  a  moment,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford ;  and 
then  she  turned  to  speak  to  the  post-master, 
who  had  followed  Bessie  to  the  carriage  with 
the  papers  and  letters  which  she  had  been  in 
too  great  a  hurry  to  wait  for.  She  thanked 
him,  and  he  went  back  and  stood  at  the  door 
watching  the  eager  little  girls  while  their 
mother  read  to  them.  She  opened  Maggie's 
letter  first.     It  said, 

''My  dear  Little  Maggie:  — 

"  I  cannot  tell   you   how  pleased  I  was  to 


88  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

receive  the  very  nice  letter  which  you  and 
Bessie  sent  me.  I  have  put  it  in  a  safe  place 
in  my  writing  desk,  and  shall  keep  it  as 
long  as  I  live.  As  you  wrote  it  together,  per- 
haps you  expected  that  I  would  make  one 
answer  do  for  both  ;  but  I  thought  you  would 
be  better  pleased  if  I  sent  a  letter  for  each 
one. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  like  Quam  Beach 
so  much ;  but  you  must  not  let  it  make  you 
forget  dear  old  Riverside.  I  am  fond  of  the 
sea  myself,  and  do  not  know  but  I  may  take  a 
run  down  to  see  you  some  day  this  summer. 
Do  you  think  you  could  give  a  welcome  to  the 
old  man  ?  and  would  Mrs.  Jones  make  him 
such  a  famous  turnover  as  she  made  for  you  ? 

"  I  went  this  morning  to  see  your  friend 
Jemmy,  for  I  thought  you  would  like  to  hear 
something  about  him.  He  was  out  in  the 
little  garden,  on  the  shady  side  of  the  house, 
sitting  in  his  chair  with  his  books  beside  him, 
and  a  happier  or  more  contented  boy  I  never 
saw.     He  was  alone,  except  for  his  dog  and 


The  Post-Office.  89 

rabbits,  for  his  mother  was  washing,  and  Mary 
was  out.  Mrs.  Bent  brought  me  a  chair,  and 
I  sat  and  talked  to  Jemmy  for  some  time.  I 
asked  him  which  of  all  his  books  he  liked  best. 
'Oh,  my  Bible,  sir,'  he  said.  'I  think  it  is 
with  the  Bible  and  other  books,  just  like  it  is 
with  people,  Mr.  Duncan.'  'How  so?'  I 
asked.  '  Why,  sir,'  he  answered,  '  when  Mary 
and  mother  are  away,  the  neighbors  often  come 
in  to  sit  with  me  and  talk  a  bit.  They  are 
very  kind,  and  I  like  to  have  them  tell  me 
about  things  ;  but  no  matter  how  much  they 
make  me  laugh  or  amuse  me,  'tain't  like 
mother's  voice ;  and  if  I  am  sick,  or  tired,  or 
uncomfortable,  or  even  glad,  there  ain't  no- 
body that  seems  to  have  just  the  right  thing  to 
say,  so  well  as  her.  And  it's  just  so  with  the 
Bible,  I  think  ;  it  always  has  just  the  very  thing 
I  want :  whether  it's  comfort  and  help,  or  words 
to  say  how  happy  and  thankful  I  feel.  The 
other  books  I  like  just  as  I  do  the  neighbors  ; 
but  the  Bible  I  love  just  as  I  do  mother.  I 
suppose  the  reason  is  that  the  Bible  is  God's 


90  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

own  words,  and  he  loved  and  pitied  us  so  that 
he  knew  what  we  would  want  him  to  say,  just 
as  mother  loves  and  pities  me,  and  so  knows 
what  I  like  her  to  say.'  Happy  Jemmy !  he 
knows  how  to  love  and  value  God's  holy  book, 
that  most  precious  gift,  in  which  all  may  find 
what  their  souls  need.  May  my  little  Maggie 
learn  its  worth  as  the  poor  lame  boy  has 
done. 

"  I  really  think  your  chair  has  done  Jemmy 
good.  He  looks  brighter,  and  has  a  better  color 
and  appetite  since  he  has  been  able  to  be  out 
of  doors  so  much.  I  do  not  suppose  he  will 
ever  be  able  to  walk  again,  but  he  does  not 
fret  about  that,  and  is  thankful  for  the  bless- 
ings that  are  left  to  him.  If  you  and  Bessie 
could  see  how  much  he  enjoys  the  chair,  you 
would  feel  quite  repaid  for  any  pains  you  took 
to  earn  it  for  him.  And  now,  my  darling,  I 
think  I  must  put  the  rest  of  what  I  have  to 
say,  in  your  little  sister's  letter.  Write  to  me 
soon  again,  and  believe  me 

"  Your  loving  grandpapa, 

"  Charles  Duncan." 


The  Post-Office.  91 

Just  as  mamma  was  finishing  this  letter,  the 
train  came  in  sight,  and  she  said  she  must 
leave  Bessie's  letter  till  they  were  at  home. 
In  a  few  minutes  they  saw  their  dear  father 
coming  towards  them,  and  a  man  following 
with  his  bag  and  a  great  basket.  Then  papa 
was  in  the  carriage,  and  such  a  hugging  and 
kissing  as  he  took  and  gave.  Franky  came 
inside  that  he  might  have  his  share,  too  ;  and 
baby  woke  up,  good-natured  as  she  always  was, 
and  smiled  and  crowed  at  her  father  till  he 
said  he  really  thought  she  knew  him,  and  was 
glad  to  see  him.  Mamma  was  quite  sure  she 
did. 

When  they  had  all  settled  down  once  more, 
and  papa  had  asked  and  answered  a  good 
many  questions,  he  said,  "  Maggie  and  Bessie, 
I  met  a  very  curious  old  gentleman  to-day  ; 
what  strange  question  do  you  think  he  asked 
me?" 

The  children  were  sure  they  did  not  know. 

"  He  asked  me  if  there  were  any  little  girls 
down  this  way  who  wrote  letters  to  old  gentle- 
man ? " 


p2  Bessie,  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Maggie  and  Bessie  looked  at  each  other,  and 
Maggie  shook  her  head  very  knowingly ;  but 
they  waited  to  hear  what  papa  would  say 
next. 

"  I  told  him  I  thought  I  knew  of  two  such 
young  damsels,  and  what  do  you  think  he  did 
then  ?  " 

"What?"  asked  both  the  little  girls  at 
once. 

"  He  handed  me  these  two  parcels  and  told 
me  if  I  could  find  any  such  little  letter-writers, 
to  ask  them  if  they  would  prove  useful." 

As  Mr.  Bradford  spoke,  he  produced  two 
parcels.  Like  the  letters,  they  were  directed 
one  to  Miss  Maggie  Bradford,  and  the  other  to 
Miss  Bessie  Bradford.  They  were  quickly 
opened,  and  inside  were  two  purple  leather 
writing  cases,  very  small,  but  as  Bessie  said, 
"  perfaly  pretty."  They  had  steel  corners  and 
locks,  and  a  plate  with  each  little  girl's  name 
engraved  upon  her  own.  In  each  were  found 
a  small  inkstand,  a  pen,  and  two  pencils,  two 
sticks  of  sealing  wax,  and  best  of  all,  tiny  note 


The  Post-Office.  93 

paper   and   envelopes  stamped  M.  S.  B.,  and 
B.  R.  B. 

It  would  have  done  Grandpapa  Duncan 
good  to  have  seen  his  pets'  pleasure.  Maggie 
fairly  screamed  with  delight.  "  Oh,  such 
paper,  such  lovely  stamped  paper." 

"  And  such  embelopes"  said  Bessie,  "  with 
our  own  name  letters  on  them." 

"  I  am  going  to  write  to  every  one  I  know 
in  the  world,"  cried  Maggie. 

"Mamma,"  said  Bessie,  when  they  had 
looked  again  and  again  at  their  beautiful 
presents,  "  I  do  think  God  has  made  all  my 
people  the  very  best  people  that  ever  lived.  I 
don't  think  any  little  girls  have  such  people 
as  mine." 

"  I  suppose  every  other  little  girl  thinks  the 
same  thing,  Bessie." 

"  Mamma,  how  can  they  ?  they  don't  have 
you,  nor  papa,  nor  Maggie,  nor  Grandpapa 
Duncan,  nor  grandmamma  ;  "  and  Bessie  went 
on  naming  all  the  people  whom  she  loved,  and 
who  loved  her. 


94  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Papa  asked  if  they  had  not  each  had  a  let- 
ter from  Grandpapa  Duncan.  The  writing 
cases  had  almost  made  them  forget  the  letters  ; 
but  now  they  showed  them  to  papa,  and  he  told 
Bessie  he  would  read  hers.  He  let  her  open  it 
herself,  and  taking  her  on  his  knee,  read  : 

'  My  dear  Little  Bessie,  — 

"  Maggie  will  tell  you  how  much  I  was 
pleased  with  the  letter  you  both  sent  me,  but  I 
must  thank  you  for  your  share  in  it.  Your  old 
grandpapa  is  very  happy  to  know  that  his  little 
pets  think  about  him,  and  care  for  him  when 
they  are  away.  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you 
are  better,  and  hope  you  will  come  home  with 
cheeks  as  red  as  Maggie's. 

"  We  are  all  well  here  except  poor  little  Nel- 
lie, who  is  cutting  some  teeth  which  hurt  her 
very  much,  and  make  her  rather  fretful.  She 
has  learned  to  say  two  or  three  words,  and 
among  them  she  makes  a  curious  sound  which 
her  mamma  declares  to  be  a  very  plain  grand- 
papa ;  as  she  looks  at  me  every  time  she  says 


The  Post-Office.  95 

it,  I  suppose  I  must  believe  it  is  so ;  but  I 
must  say  it  does  not  sound  much  like  it  to  my 
ears.  However,  she  Wes  her  old  grandpapa 
dearly,  which  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me. 

"  Your  little  dog  Flossy  is  growing  finely. 
He  is  very  pretty  and  lively,  and  will  make  a 
fine  playmate  for  you  and  Maggie  when  you 
come  home.  I  went  down  to  Donald's  cottage 
the  other  day  and  found  all  four  of  the  pup- 
pies playing  before  the  door  while  Alice  sat  on 
the  steps  watching  them.  She  says  they  are 
growing  very  mischievous  and  have  already 
broken  two  or  three  of  Donald's  fine  plants, 
so  that  when  she  lets  them  out  for  a  play, 
she  has  to  keep  her  eye  on  them  all  the  time. 
Alice  asked  about  you  and  Maggie,  and  I 
could  not  help  wishing  with  her  that  you  were 
tbere  to  see  your  little  doggie.  It  will  be 
pleasant  to  have  you  at  Riverside  again  in  the 
autumn.  Send  me  another  letter,  if  you  wish 
to  please 

"  Your  loving  grandpapa, 

**  Charles  Duncan." 


VII. 


A    NEW  FRIEND. 


NB  morning  Bessie  was  sitting  on  a 
large  rock  on  the  beach,  looking  at 
the  waves  as  they  rolled  up,  one  after 
another,  and  listening  to  the  pleasant  sound 
they  made.  The  other  children  and  Jane 
were  playing  a  little  way  off. 

Presently  a  lady  and  gentleman  came  walk- 
ing slowly  along  the  beach.  The  gentleman 
used  crutches,  for  he  had  only  one  foot. 
They  stopped  at  the  rock  where  Bessie  sat, 
and  the  lady  said,  "  You  had  better  sit  down, 
Horace,  you  have  walked  far  enough." 

The  gentleman  sat  down  beside  Bessie,  who 
looked  at  him  for  a  minute  and  then  got  up. 

"  I'll  sit  on  that  other  stone,"  she  said, 
"  and  then  there'll  be  room  for  the  lady :  that 
is  big  enough  for  me." 


A  New  Friend.  97 

"  Thank  you,  dear,"  said  the  lady  ;  and  the 
gentleman  said,  "  Well,  you  are  a  polite  little 
girl." 

Bessie  liked  his  looks,  but  it  made  her  sorry 
to  see  that  he  had  only  one  foot.  She  sat 
opposite  to  him  looking  at  him  very  gravely ; 
and  he  looked  back  at  her,  but  with  a  smile. 
Now  that  Bessie  had  given  up  her  seat  to  the 
strangers,  she  felt  they  were  her  company  and 
she  must  entertain  them,  so  she  began  to  talk. 

"  Is  your  foot  pretty  well,  sir  ?  "  she  said. 

"Which  foot?  "  asked  the  gentleman. 

"  The  one  that  is  cut  off." 

"  How  can  it  be  pretty  well  if  it  is  cut 
off?  "  he  said  ;  "  you  see  it  is  not  here  to  feel 
pretty  well." 

"  I  mean  the  place  where  it  was  cut  off," 
said  Bessie. 

"  It  pains  me  a  good  deal,"  he  said.  "  I  am 
a  soldier,  and  my  foot  was  hurt  in  battle  and 
had  to  be  cut  off,  but  1  hope  it  will  feel  better 
one  of  these  days.  I  have  come  down  here 
\o  see  what  the  sea  air  will  do  for  me." 
7 


98  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Oh,  then  you'll  feel  better,  soon,"  said 
Bessie.  "  I  used  to  feel  very  misable,  but  now 
I  am  most  well." 

"  Why,  is  your  foot  cut  off,  too  ?  "  asked  the 
gentleman. 

"  Oh,  no ;  don't  you  see  I  have  both  my 
two  ?  " 

"  So  you  have,"  said  the  gentleman,  laugh- 
ing as  she  held  up  two  little  feet ;  "  but  there  is 
not  half  as  much  in  those  two  tiny  feet,  as 
there  is  in  my  one  big  one." 

"  I  had  yather  have  two  little  ones  than  one 
big  one,"  said  Bessie. 

"  So  would  I,  but  you  see  I  cannot  choose, 
and  all  the  sea  air  in  the  world  will  not  bring 
me  back  my  other  foot." 

"  Don't  you  like  the  sea,  sir?  "  asked  Bes- 
sie, "  I  do." 

"  Why  do  you  like  it  so  much  ?  " 

"  Because  I  like  to  see  the  waves,  and  1 
think  it  sounds  as  if  it  was  saying  something 
all  the  time." 

"  What  does  it  seem  to  say  ?  " 


A  New  Friend.  99 

"  I  don't  know,  sir.  I  listen  to  it  a  great 
deal,  and  I  can't  find  out,  but  I  like  to  hear  it 
for  all.  I  think  it  must  be  telling  us  to  ye- 
member  our  Father  in  heaven  who  made  it." 

"  What  a  strange  child,"  the  gentleman 
whispered  to  the  lady  ;  "  who  is  she  like  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  but  she  is  lovely}"  said  the 
lady  ;  "  I  should  like  to  take  her  picture  as  she 
sits  there." 

"  What  is  your  name,  fairy  ?  "  asked  the 
gentleman.  « 

"  Bessie,"  said  the  little  girl. 

"  Bessie  what  ? " 

"  Bessie  Bradford." 

"  Bessie  Bradford !  and  what  is  your  fath- 
er's name  ?  " 

"  His  name  is  Bradford,  too." 

"  But  what  is  his  first  name  ?  " 

"  Mr."  said  Bessie,  gravely. 

The  gentleman  laughed.  "  Has  he  no 
other  names  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  "  said  Bessie,  "  all  his  names  are 
Mr.  Henry,  Lane,  Bradford." 


roo  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  she 
is  the  very  image  of  Helen  Duncan.  And 
where  is  your  father,  Bessie  ?  " 

"  Up  in  the  house,  yeading  to  mamma,"  said 
Bessie,  looking  away  from  him  to  the  lady. 
She  was  very  pretty  and  had  a  sweet  smile. 
Bessie  liked  her  face  very  much  and  sat  gazing 
at  her  as  earnestly  as  she  had  before  done  at 
the  gentleman  who  presently  said,  "  Well, 
what  do  you  think  of  this  lady  ?  " 

"I  think  she  is  very  pretty,"  said  Bessie, 
turning  her  eyes  back  to  him. 

"  So  do  I,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  do  you 
think  that  I  am  very  pretty,  too  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Then  what  do  you  think  about  me  ?  " 

"  I  think  you  are  pretty  'quisitive,"  said  the 
little  girl,  at  which  both  the  lady  and  gentle- 
man laughed  heartily  ;  but  Bessie  looked  very 
sober. 

"Will  you  give  me  a  kiss,  little  one?" 
asked  the  stranger. 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  had  yather  not." 


A  New  Friend.  iOi 

•'  Why,  you  are  not  afraid  of  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  "  said  Bessie,  "  I  am  not  afraid  of 
soldiers  ;  I  like  them." 

"  Then  why  won't  you  kiss  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  kiss  strangers,  if  they're  gentle- 
men," said  Bessie. 

"  And  that  is  very  prudent,  too,"  said  the 
soldier,  who  seemed  very  much  amused  ;  "  but 
then  you  see  I  am  not  quite  a  stranger." 

"  Oh,  what  a  —  I  mean  I  think  you  are  mis 
taken,  sir,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Don't  tease  her,  dear,"  said  the  lady. 

"  But,  little  Bessie,  said  the  gentleman,  "  do 
you  call  people  strangers  who  know  a  great 
deal  about  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  but  you  don't  know 
anything  about  me." 

"  Yes,  I  do  ;  in  the  first  place  I  know  that 
you  are  a  very  kind  and  polite  little  girl  who 
is  ready  to  give  up  her  place  to  a  lame  soldier. 
Next,  I  know  that  your  father's  name  is  Mr. 
Henry,  Lane,  Bradford,  and  that  yours  is  Bes- 
sie Rush  Bradford,  and    that   you   look   very 


102  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Shore. 

much  like  your  aunt,  Helen  Duncan.  Then 
I  know  that  you  have  a  little  sister,  whose 
name  is  —  let  me  see,  well,  I  think  her  name 
is  Margaret,  after  your  mother ;  and  you  have 
two  brothers,  Harry  and  Fred.  There  is  anoth- 
er little  one,  but  I  have  forgotten  his  name." 

"  Pranky,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  and  we  have  baby, 
too." 

"  Ah,  well,  I  have  never  made  baby's 
acquaintance.  And  this  is  not  your  home, 
but  you  live  in  New  York,  at  No.  15  —  street, 
where  I  have  spent  many  a  pleasant  hour. 
And  more  than  all  this,  I  know  there  is  a  lady 
in  Baltimore  named  Elizabeth  Rush,  who  loves 
you  very  much,  and  whom  you  love  ;  and  that 
a  few  days  since  you  wrote  a  letter  to  her  and 
told  her  how  sorry  you  were  that  her  brother 
who  was  '  shooted '  had  had  his  foot  cut  off." 

While  the  gentleman  was  saying  all  this, 
Bessie  had  slipped  off  her  stone  and  come  up 
to  him,  and  now  she  was  standing,  with  one 
little  hand  on  his  knee,  looking  up  eagerly  into 
his  face. 


A  New  Friend.  103 

«  Why,  do  you  know  the  lady  whom  I  call 
my  Aunt  Bessie  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Indeed  I  do ;  and  now  if  you  are  so  sorry 
for  Aunt  Bessie's  brother,  would  you  not  like 
to  do  something  to  help  him  ?  " 

"  I  can't,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  I  am  too  little." 

"  Yes,  you  can,"  said  the  colonel,  "  you  can 
give  me  a  kiss,  and  that  would  help  me  a  great 
deal." 

"  Why,"  said  Bessie,  again,  "  do  you  mean 
that  you  are  Colonel  Yush,  dear  Aunt  Bessie's 
brother  ? " 

"  To  be  sure  I  am,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  and 
now  are  you  going  to  give  me  the  kiss  for  her 
sake  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  for  your  own  sake,  too." 

"  Capital,  we  are  coming  on  famously,  and 
shall  soon  be  good  friends  at  this  rate,"  said 
the  colonel  as  he  stooped  and  kissed  the  rosy 
little  mouth  which  Bessie  held  up  to  him. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  about  it  ? "  she  said. 

"  About  what  ?  " 

"  About  how  you  was  in  that  country,  called 


104  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Shore. 

India,  which  papa  says  is  far  away  over  the 
sea,  and  how  the  wicked  heathen  named, 
named  —  I  can't  yemember." 

"  Sepoys  ?  "  said  the  colonel. 

"  Yes,  Sepoys  :  how  the  Sepoys,  who  you 
thought  were  your  friends,  made  a  great  fight, 
and  killed  the  soldiers  and  put  the  ladies  and 
dear  little  babies  down  a  well.  And  how 
brave  you  was  and  how  you  was  fighting  and 
fighting  not  to  let  the  Sepoys  hurt  some  poor 
sick  soldiers  in  the  hospital ;  and  the  well  sol- 
diers wanted  to  yun  away,  but  you  wouldn't 
let  them,  but  made  the  Sepoys  yun  away  in- 
stead, and  went  after  them.  And  then  they 
came  back  with  ever  so  many  more  to  help 
them,  and  you  and  your  soldiers  had  to  go 
away,  but  you  took  all  the  sick  men  with  you 
and  did  not  let  them  be  hurt.  And  you  saw 
a  soldier  friend  of  yours  who  was  dying,  and 
he  asked  you  not  to  let  the  Sepoys  find  him, 
and  you  put  him  on  your  horse  and  carried 
him  away,  and  the  Sepoys  almost  caught  you. 
And   how   the   very   next    day   there   was   a 


A  New  Friend.  105 

dreadful,  dreadful  battle  when  more  soldiers 
came,  and  your  foot  was  snooted  and  your 
side ;  and  your  foot  had  to  be  cut  off  in  the 
hospital,  and  would  not  get  well  for  a  long, 
long  while.  And  how  there  was  a  lady  that 
you  wanted  for  your  wife,  and  you  came  to  our 
country  to  get  her  —  oh,  I  guess  that's  the 
lady  ! "  Bessie  stopped  as  she  looked  at  the 
pretty  lady,  and  the  colonel  smiled  as  he 
said,  — 

"  You  are  right,  Bessie ;  and  what  more  ?  " 
"  And  when  you  were  coming  in  the  ship, 
there  was  a  little  boy  who  fell  in  the  water  and 
you  forgot  your  lame  foot  and  jumped  in  after 
him,  and  your  foot  was  hurt  so  much  it  had  to 
be  cut  off  some  more.  So  please  tell  me  all 
about  it,  sir." 

Bessie  said  all  this  just  as  fast  as  her  little 
tongue  would  go,  and  the  colonel  sat  watching 
her  with  a  very  amused  look  on  his  face. 
"  Upon  my  word,  you  are  well  posted,  little 
one.  I  do  not  know  that  I  could  tell  the  story 
better  myself ;  how  did  you  learn  so  much  ?  " 


io6  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Bessie  put  it  in  the  letters  she 
yote  to  mamma,  and  mamma  told  us  about  it, 
and  Harry  yeads  and  yeads  it ;  and  Maggie 
made  a  nice  play  about  it,  Harry  gets  on  the 
yocking  horse  and  plays  he  is  Colonel  Yush, 
and  Fred  is  the  soldier  that  you  helped." 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  colonel,  "  and  what 
are  you  and  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Oh !  we  are  Harry's  soldiers,  I  mean  your 
soldiers,  and  Franky  is,  too ;  and  we  have  the 
nursery  chairs  for  horses,  and  our  dolls  for 
sick  soldiers,  and  we  have  the  pillows  for 
Sepoys,  and  we  poke  them ;  and  nurse  don't 
like  it,  'cause  she  says  we  make  a  yumpus  and 
a  muss  in  the  nursery." 

"  I  should  think  so,"  said  the  colonel,  laugh- 
ing heartily. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  the  story  ?  "  asked  Bes- 
sie. 

"  I  think  I  had  better  tell  you  another,  since 
you  know  that  so  well,"  said  Colonel  Rush ; 
"  I  will  tell  you  one  about  a  drummer  boy." 

But  just  as  he  began  the  story  Bessie  saw 


A  New  Friend.  107 

her  father  coming  towards  them,  and  in  an- 
other  minute  he  and  the  colonel  were  shaking 
hands  and  seeming  so  glad  to  see  one  another. 
Then  Mr.  Bradford  turned  and  looked  at  the 
pretty  lady,  and  the  colonel  said,  "  Yes,  this  is 
the  lady  of  whom  you  have  heard  as  Miss  Mon- 
roe, now  Mrs.  Rush.  She  has  taken  charge 
of  what  is  left  of  me." 

"  Isn't  she  perfahj  lovely,  papa  ?  "  asked 
Bessie,  as  Mr.  Bradford  took  off  his  hat  and 
shook  hands  with  the  lady,  and  she  saw  a 
pretty  pink  color  come  into  her  cheeks  which 
made  her  look  sweeter  than  ever.  Papa 
looked  as  if  he  quite  agreed  with  his  little 
daughter,  but  he  only  smiled  and  said,  "  My 
Bessie  speaks  her  mind  on  all  occasions." 

"  So  I  see,"  said  the  colonel,  looking  very 
much  pleased. 

"  Did  I  talk  too  much,  sir  ?  "  asked  Bessie, 
not  knowing  exactly  whether  he  meant  to  find 
fault  with  her,  for  she  was  sometimes  told  at 
home  that  she  talked  too  much. 

"  Not  one  word,"  he  answered  ;  "  and  I  hope 


io8  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

you  will  often  come  and  see  me  at  my  rooms 
in  the  hotel,  and  talk  to  me  there.  I  am  very 
fond  of  little  children." 

"  If  mamma  will  let  me,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  but 
1  can't  come  very  often,  'cause  I  don't  want  to 
be  away  from  Maggie." 

"  Oh,  Maggie  must  come,  too,"  said  the 
colonel. 

"  Maggie  is  shy,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Well,  you  bring  her  to  my  room,  and  we 
will  see  if  I  have  not  something  there  that  will 
cure  her  shyness." 

But  papa  called  Maggie  to  come  and  see 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush,  and  when  she  heard 
that  this  was  the  brave  English  soldier  about 
whom  she  had  made  the  famous  play,  her  shy- 
ness was  forgotten  at  once,  and  she  was  quite 
as  ready  to  be  friends  as  Bessie,  though  she 
had  not  much  to  say. 

"  You  know,  Bessie,"  she  said  afterwards, 
"  we're  so  very  acquainted  with  him  in  our 
hearts,  he  is  not  quite  a  stranger." 

The  next  morning,  Mrs.  Bradford  went  to 


A  New  Friend.  109 

the  hotel  to  call  on  Mrs.  Rush,  taking  Maggie 
and  Bessie  with  her  ;  and  from  this  time  the 
little  girls  and  the  colonel  were  the  best  friends 
possible,  though  Bessie  was  his  particular  pet 
and  plaything,  and  she  always  called  him  her 
soldier.  When  he  felt  well  enough,  and  the 
day  was  not  too  warm,  he  would  come  out 
and  sit  on  the  beach  for  an  hour  or  two.  The 
moment  he  came  moving  slowly  along  on  his 
crutches,  Bessie  was  sure  to  see  him,  and  no 
matter  what  she  was  doing,  off  she  would  run 
to  meet  him.  As  long  as  he  stayed  she  never 
left  him,  and  her  mother  sometimes  feared 
that  the  colonel  might  grow  tired  of  having 
such  a  little  child  so  much  with  him,  but  he 
told  her  it  was  a  great  pleasure  to  him  ;  and  in- 
deed it  seemed  to  be  so,  for  though  there  were 
a  great  many  people  at  Quam  Beach  who  knew 
him  and  liked  to  talk  to  him,  he  never  forgot 
the  little  friend  who  sat  so  quietly  at  his  side, 
and  had  every  now  and  then  a  word,  or  smile, 
or  a  touch  of  his  hand  for  her. 

Bessie  had  been  taught  that  she  must  not 


no  Bessie  at  tlie  Sea-Side. 

interrupt  when  grown  people  were  speak- 
ing ;  so,  though  she  was  a  little  chatterbox 
when  she  had  leave  to  talk,  she  knew  when  it 
was  polite  and  proper  for  her  to  be  quiet. 

If  the  colonel  could  not  come  down  to  the 
shore,  he  was  almost  sure  to  send  for  Maggie 
and  Bessie  to  come  to  his  room,  until  it  came 
to  be  quite  a  settled  thing  that  they  were  to 
pass  some  time  there  every  day  when  he  did 
not  go  out,  and  many  a  pleasant  hour  did  they 
spend  there.  He  told  them  the  most  delightful 
and  interesting  stories  of  people  and  things 
that  he  had  seen  while  he  was  in  India,  being 
always  careful  not  to  tell  anything  that  might 
shock  or  grieve  them,  from  the  day  that  he 
was  speaking  of  the  sad  death  of  a  little  drum- 
mer boy,  when,  to  his  great  surprise  and  dis- 
tress, both  children  broke  into  a  violent  fit  of 
crying,  and  it  was  some  time  before  they  could 
be  pacified.  Then  such  toys  as  he  carved  out 
of  wood !  He  made  a  little  boat  with  masts 
and  sails  for  each  of  them,  which  they  used  to 
sail  in  the   pools  that  were  left  by  the  tide  ; 


A  New  Friend.  in 

and  a  beautiful  set  of  jack-straws,  containing 
arrows,  spears,  swords,  trumpets,  and  guns. 

One  day  he  asked  Harry  to  bring  him  some 
sprigs  from  the  spruce  tree,  and  the  next  time 
Maggie  and  Bessie  came  to  see  him,  there  was  a 
tiny  set  of  furniture,  —  a  sofa  and  half  a  dozen 
chairs  to  match,  all  made  of  those  very  sprigs. 
He  used  to  lie  and  carve,  while  Mrs.  Rush  was 
reading  to  him  ;  and  sometimes  he  worked 
while  the  children  were  there,  and  it  was  such 
a  pleasure  to  watch  him.  Then  he  had  some 
books  with  fine  pictures,  and  oh !  wonder  of 
wonders,  and  what  the  children  liked  best  of 
all,  such  a  grand  musical-box,  they  had  never 
seen  one  like  it.  Mamma  had  a  small  one 
which  played  three  tunes,  but  it  was  a  baby 
musical-box  to  this,  which  was  so  very  much 
larger,  and  played  twenty.  They  never  tired 
of  it,  at  least  Bessie  did  not ;  and  she  would 
sit  looking  into  it  and  listening  so  earnestly 
that  often  she  seemed  to  see  and  bear  nothing 
else  around  her.  Maggie  was  fond  of  it,  too, 
but  she  could  not  keep  quiet  so  long  as  Bessie, 


112  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

■\ 
and  often  wanted  to  be  off  and  playing  out  of 
doors  long  before  her  sister  was  ready  to  go. 
There  were  many  days  when  the  colonel 
•  was  suffering  too  much  pain  to  talk  or  play 
with  them,  and  they  had  to  be  very  still  if  they 
went  into  his  room.  Then  Maggie  never 
cared  to  stay  very  long,  nor  indeed  did  the 
colonel  care  much  to  have  her  ;  for  though 
she  tried  her  best  to  be  gentle  and  quiet,  those 
restless  little  hands  and  feet  seemed  as  if  they 
must  be  moving ;  and  she  was  almost  sure  to 
shake  his  sofa,  or  to  go  running  and  jumping 
across  the  room,  in  a  way  that  distressed  him 
very  much,  though  her  merry  ways  amused 
him  when  he  was  able  to  bear  them.  Quiet 
little  mouse  of  a  Bessie  went  stealing  about  so 
softly  that  she  never  disturbed  the  sick  man ; 
and  so  it  came  about  that  she  spent  many  an 
hour  in  his  room  without  Maggie.  Maggie 
never  half  enjoyed  her  play,  if  her  sister  was 
not  with  her  ;  but  she  was  not  selfish,  and  did 
not  complain  if  Bessie  sometimes  left  her  for 
a  while. 


vm. 

BESSIE'S  LITTLE   SERMON. 

j|NE  afternoon  when  the  children  had 
gone  over  to  the  hotel  to  see  grand- 
mamma, a  basket  of  fine  fruit  came, 
from  Riverside.  They  had  not  been  to  the 
colonel's  room  for  two  or  three  days,  for  he 
had  been  suffering  very  much,  and  was  not 
able  to  see  any  one.  When  the  fruit  came 
grandmamma  put  some  on  a  plate,  and  sent 
Bessie  with  it  to  the  colonel's  door,  but  told 
her  that  she  must  not  go  in. 

Bessie  went  to  the  door,  and,  putting  her 
plate  down  on  the  hall  floor,  knocked  very 
gently.  Mrs.  Rush  came  and  opened  the 
door,  and,  taking  up  her  plate  again,  Bessie 
(landed  it  to  her,  gave  her  grandmamma's 
message,  and  was  going  away,  when  she  heard 
the  colonel's  voice.  "  Is  that  my  pet  ?  "  ho 
said. 

8 


114  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  and  I  love  you  very  much,  and 
I  am  so  sorry  for  you  \  but  grandmamma  said 
I  must  not  come  in." 

"  But  1  want  to  see  you,"  said  the  colonel. 

"  You  can  come  in,  darling,"  said  Mrs. 
Rush  ;  "  he  is  better  this  afternoon,  and  would 
like  to  see  you." 

"  But  I  better  mind  grandma  first ;  bet- 
tern't  I  ?  "  said  Bessie.  "  I'll  yun  and  ask 
her,  and  if  she'll  let  me,  I  can  come  back." 

Mrs.  Rush  smiled,  and  said,  "  Very  well ;  " 
and  the  obedient  little  girl  ran  to  ask  her 
grandmamma's  permission. 

Grandmamma    said,     "Certainly,    if    the 
colonel  wanted  her." 

"  Didn't  he  invite  me  ?  "  said  Maggie,  with 
rather  a  long  face. 

"No,"  said  Bessie.  "Would  you  yather 
I  would  not  go?  I'll  stay  with  you,  if  you 
want  me." 

"  I  guess  you  had  better  go,  if  he  wants 
you,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  but  don't  stay  very  long, 
Bessie  ;  it's  very  sorrowful  without  you." 


Bessie's  Little  Sermon.  115 

"  Poor  Maggie,"  said  Walter,  who  was 
standing  by  at  the  time  ;  "  it  is  very  cruel  in 
the  colonel  not  to  ask  you.  Never  mind,  you 
shall  come  and  take  care  of  me  when  I  lose 
my  foot." 

"  Oh,  no,  it's  me  you  ought  to  call  cruel," 
said  Maggie,  in  a  very  doleful  voice ;  "  you 
know  I  am  such  a  fidget,  Walter,  and  I  can't 
help  it.  The  other  day  the  colonel  was  so 
sick,  and  I  meant  to  be  so  quiet,  and  yet  I  did 
two  shocking  things." 

"  What  did  you  do  ? "  asked  Walter. 

"  I  knocked  over  a  chair,  and  I  slammed 
the  door ;  and  so  mamma  said  I  must  not  go 
again  till  he  was  better." 

"  But  what  do  you  do  without  Bessie,  when 
she  goes? "  said  Walter;  "  I  thought  you  two 
could  not  live  apart." 

"  We  can't,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  but  then,  you 
see,  the  colonel  is  a  sick,  lame  soldier,  with  a 
foot  cut  off  and  a  hole  in  his  side ;  so,  if  he 
wants  Bessie,  I  ought  to  make  a  sacrifice  of 
myself  and  let  her  go." 


it6  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

The  boys  laughed  ;  but  Tom  said,  "  That  is 
right,  little  woman,  do  all  you  can  for  the 
soldiers ;  they  have  sacrificed  enough  for  us." 
And  Bessie  kissed  her  sister  and  ran  back  to 
the  colonel's  room. 

"  Why,  is  he  better  ? "  she  asked,  as  Mrs. 
Rush  lifted  her  up  to  kiss  him.  "  I  think  he 
looks  very  worse.     Oh,  how  big  his  eyes  are  !  " 

The  colonel  laughed.  "  I  am  like  the  wolf 
in  Red  Riding-Hood  ;  am  I  not,  Bessie  ? "  he 
said. 

"No,"  she  answered,  "not  a  bit;  you  are 
just  like  my  own  dear  soldier,  only  I  wish  you 
did  not  look  so  white." 

"  I  think  he  will  look  better  to-morrow, 
Bessie,"  said  Mrs.  Rush.  "  He  has  suffered 
terribly  the  last  two  days ;  but  he  is  easier 
now,  though  he  is  very  tired  and  weak,  so  we 
must  not  talk  much  to  him." 

"  I  wont  talk  a  word,  only  if  he  speaks  to 
me,"  said  Bessie ;  and  she  brought  a  footstool 
and  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the  sofa.  The 
colonel  held  out  his  hand  to  her,  and  she  put 


Bessie's  kittle  Sermon.  ivj 

her  own  little  one  in  it  and  sat  perfectly  quiet. 
He  lay  looking  at  her,  with  a  smile,  for  a  few 
minutes,  but  presently  his  eyes  closed,  and 
Bessie  thought  he  was  asleep.  He  looked 
more  ill  when  his  eyes  were  shut  than  when 
they  were  open ;  his  face  was  so  very,  very 
pale,  and  his  black  hair  and  beard  made  it 
look  whiter  still.  Mrs.  Rush  sat  by  the  sofa 
fanning  her  husband,  while  the  little  girl 
watched  him  with  earnest,  loving  eyes. 

At  last  she  whispered,  "  If  he  dies,  he'll  go 
to  heaven,  'cause  he's  so  very  brave  and  good ; 
wont  he  ? " 

Mrs.  Rush  did  not  speak,  but  Bessie  did 
not  need  any  answer.  She  was  quite  sure  in 
her  own  mind  ;  for  she  never  imagined  that 
this  brave  soldier  did  not  love  his  Saviour. 
"  He  could  not  be  so  brave  and  good  if  he  did 
not  love  Jesus  very  much,"  she  said,  looking 
up  at  Mrs.  Rush.  She  could  not  see  the 
lady's  face  very  plainly,  for  she  was  bending 
it  down  almost  close  to  the  pillows.  Bessie 
went  on  very  softly  and  gravely :  "  I  suppose 


Ii8  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

that's  the  yeason  he's  so  patient  too.  Papa 
says  he  never  saw  any  one  so  patient ;  and  I 
guess  lie's  like  lame  Jemmy.  Jemmy  said 
he  couldn't  help  being  patient  when  he 
thought  how  much  his  Saviour  suffered  for 
him,  and  I  guess  the  colonel  is  just  like  him; 
and  he  was  so  brave  in  the  battles,  'cause  he 
knew  Jesus  loved  him  and  would  take  him  to 
heaven  if  he  was  killed.  He  would  have  been 
afraid,  if  he  didn't  know  that.  And  I  suppose 
when  he  was  hurt  in  that  battle  and  lay  on 
the  ground  all  night,  and  his  own  soldiers 
didn't  know  where  he  was,  but  thought  the 
Sepoys  had  him,  he  thought  about  Jesus  and 
his  Father  in  heaven  all  the  time,  and  yemem- 
bered  how  Jesus  died  for  him,  and  kept  say- 
ing his  prayers  to  them  ;  and  so  they  took  care 
of  him,  and  let  his  own  soldiers  come  and  find 
him.  Oh,  I  know  he  must  love  Jesus  very 
much.  And  don't  you  think  Jesus  took  such 
care  of  him  so  he  could  love  him  more  yet  ?  " 
Mrs.  Rush's  face  was  quite  down  on  her 
husband's  pillows  now,  and  Bessie  looked  back 


Bessie's  Little  Sermon.  119 

at  him.  He  had  turned  his  head,  and  she 
could  not  see  his  face  either,  but  she  felt  the 
hand,  in  which  her  own  was  lying,  moving  a 
little  uneasily. 

"  I'm  'fraid  I  esturb  him,"  she  said ;  "  I 
mustn't  whisper  any  more." 

She  kissed  his  hand  very  gently,  and  laid 
her  head  on  the  sofa  beside  it.  The  room  was 
rather  dark,  and  very  still,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments she  was  fast  asleep.  After  a  while  the 
colonel  turned  his  head  again,  opened  his  eyes 
and  looked  at  her.  Then  Mrs.  Rush  lifted  up 
her  face. 

"  Were  you  asleep,  Horace  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,"  he  said,  rather  crossly,  and  moving 
his  head  impatiently  ;  "  I  wish  you  would  take 
her  away." 

Mrs.  Rush  -was  glad  that  Bessie  did  not  hear 
him ;  she  knew  that  this  would  have  grieved 
her.  She  lifted  the  little  darling  in  her  arms, 
and  carried  her  across  the  floor  to  her  grand- 
mamma's room.  Mrs.  Stanton  herself  opened 
the  door ;  there  was  no  one  else  in  the  room. 


120  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  This  precious  child  is  asleep,"  said  Mrs. 
Rush,  in  a  low  voice.  "  Shall  I  leave  her 
with  you  ?  " 

Mrs.  Stanton  asked  her  to  lay  Bessie  on  the 
bed.  She  did  so,  and  then  bent  over  her  for 
a  moment,  and  when  she  raised  her  head,  Mrs. 
Stanton  saw  how  very  pale  and  sad  her  sweefc 
face  was. 

"  What  is  it,  my  child  ?  "  asked  the  kind 
old  lady,  taking  her  hand.  Mrs.  Rush  burst 
into  tears. 

"  Is  your  husband  worse  ?  Do  you  think 
him  in  danger  ?  " 

"  Not  for  this  life,  but  for  that  which  is  to 
come,"  sobbed  Mrs.  Rush,  laying  her  head  on 
Mrs,  Stanton's  shoulder. 

"  My  poor  child  !  and  is  it  so  ?  "  said  grand- 
mamma. 

"  Yes,  yes,  and  he  will  not  hear  a  word  on 
the  subject;  he  has  forbidden  me  to  mention 
it  to  him.  And  if  he  would  let  me,  I  do  not 
know  how  to  teach  him.  I  am  only  a  begin- 
ner myself.     These  things  are  all  so  new  to 


Bessie's  Little  Sermon.  121 

me ;  for  it  was  not  until  I  feared  that  I  was  to 
lose  him  that  I  felt  my  own  need  of  more  than 
human  strength  to  upnold  me.  Bessie,  dear 
little  unconscious  preacher,  has  just  said  more 
in  his  hearing  than  he  has  allowed  me  to  say 
for  months.  God,  in  his  mercy,  grant  that 
her  innocent  words  may  touch  his  heart. 
Dear  Mrs.  Stanton,  pray  for  him  and  for  me." 
Mrs.  Stanton  tried  to  comfort  her,  and  then 
the  old  lady  and  the  young  one  knelt  down 
together,  while  little  Bessie  slept  on,  knowing 
nothing  of  the  hopes  and  fears  and  sorrows  of 
those  who  prayed  beside  her. 


IX. 

FAITH. 

URSEY,"  said  Bessie,  the  next  morn- 
ing, as  nurse  was  putting  on  her  shoes 
and  stockings,  after  giving  her  her 
bath,  "  I  can't  think  how  it  is." 

"  How  what  is,  dear  ?  " 

"  About  the  Trinity." 

"Well!"  said  nurse.  "The  Trinity!  and 
what  put  that  into  your  head  ?  " 

"  It's  not  in  my  head,"  said  Bessie ;  "  I 
can't  get  it  there.  I  try  and  try  to  think 
how  it  can  be,  and  I  can't.  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost,  three  Persons  and  one  God,"  she 
repeated,  slowly  ;  "  how  can  it  be,  nursey  ?  I 
know  the  Father  means  our  Father  in  heaven, 
and  the  Son  means  Jesus,  and  the  Holy  Ghost 
means  Heavenly  Spirit ;  but  there's  only  one 
God,  and  I  don't  understand." 

"  And  wiser  heads  than  yours  can't  under- 


Faith.  123 

stand  it,  my  lamb,"  said  nurse ;  "  don't  bother 
your  little  brains  about  that.  It's  just  one 
of  those  things  we  must  take  upon  faith ; 
we  must  believe  it  without  understanding  it. 
Don't  you  think  about  it  any  more  till  you  are 
older." 

But  Bessie  did  think  about  it ;  and  her 
thoughtful  little  face  looked  more  grave  and 
earnest  than  usual  all  that  day.  Mamma 
wondered  what  she  was  considering,  but  said 
nothing,  for  she  was  sure  that  Bessie  would 
soon  come  to  her  if  she  was  in  any  difficulty. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  about,  Bessie  ?  " 
asked  the  colonel  that  afternoon,  when  she 
was  in  his  room.  He  was  much  better,  and 
was  sitting  up  in  his  easy-chair. 

"  What  is  faith  ? "  asked  Bessie,  answer- 
ing his  question  by  another,  and  turning  her 
great  serious,  brown  eyes  on  his  face.  The 
colonel  looked  surprised. 

"  Faith  ?  "  he  said.  "  Why,  to  have  faith  in  a 
person  is  to  believe  in  him  and  trust  in  him." 

Bessie  did  not  look  satisfied. 


124  Bessie  at  the  Sca-Side. 

"  When  you  first  went  in  bathing,"  said  the 
colonel,  "  did  you  not  feel  afraid  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  Bessie. 

"  Why  not  ?  Did  you  not  fear  that  those 
great  waves  would  wash  you  away  and  drown 


you 


?" 


"No,  sir;  before  I  went  in,  I  thought  I 
would  be  very  'fraid ;  but  papa  said  he  would 
carry  me  in  his  arms,  and  wouldn't  let  me  be 
drownded." 

"  And  did  you  believe  him  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  answered  Bessie,  opening  her 
eyes  very  wide  at  this  question ;  "  my  father 
don't  tell  stories." 

"  And  you  were  not  afraid  when  he  carried 
you  in  his  arms  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"That  was  faith,  —  faith  in  your  father. 
You  believed  what  he  told  you,  and  trusted 
in  his  care." 

Bessie  still  looked  puzzled. 

"  Well,"  said  the  colonel,  "  don't  you  un- 
derstand yet  ? " 


Faith.  125 

"  I  don't  know  how  it  is  about  things,"  said 
the  little  girl. 

"  What  things  ?  " 

"  Things  that  I  don't  know  how  they  can 
be." 

"  Do  you  mean,  Bessie,"  said  Mrs.  Rush, 
"  that  you  do  not  know  how  to  have  faith  in 
what  you  do  not  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  See  here,  little  old  head  on  young  shoul- 
ders," said  the  colonel,  drawing  Bessie  closer 
to  him,  and  seeming  much  amused,  "  when  I 
told  you  that  this  box  would  make  sweet  mu- 
sic, did  you  believe  me  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Did  you  understand  how  it  could  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Do  you  know  what  this  paper-knife  is 
made  of? " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  It  is  made  of  the  shell  of  a  fish ;  do  you 
believe  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  answered  Bessie. 


126  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  But  you  did  not  see  it  made ;  how  can  you 
believe  it  ?  " 

"  'Cause  you  tell  me  so." 

"  Well,  then,  that  is  faith ;  you  believe  what 
I  say,  even  when  you  cannot  understand  how 
it  is,  because  you  trust  me,  or  have  faith  in 
me,  for  you  know  I  never  tell  you  anything 
that  is  not  true.  If  I  sometimes  told  you 
what  is  false,  you  could  not  have  faith  in  me  ; 
could  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  but  you  never 
would  tell  me  falses." 

"Indeed,  I  would  not,  my  pet,"  he  said, 
smiling,  and  twisting  one  of  her  curls  over 
his  finger. 

She  stood  for  a  few  minutes,  as  if  thinking 
over  what  he  had  told  her,  and  then,  her  whole 
face  lighting  up,  she  said,  "  Oh,  yes,  I  know 
now !  I  believe  what  papa  tells  me  when  he 
says  he'll  take  care  of  me,  'cause  he  always 
tells  me  true,  and  I  know  he  can  do  it ;  and 
that's  faith  ;  and  I  believe  what  you  tell  me, 
'cause  you  tell  me  true ;  and  that's  faith  ;  and 


Faith.  127 

we  believe  what  God  tells  us,  even  if  we  can't 
understand  how  it  can  be,  'cause  he  tells  us 
what  is  true ;  and  that's  faith.  Now  I  know 
what  nursey  meant." 

"  What  did  nurse  say,  dear  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Rush. 

"  She  said  we  must  have  faith  about  three 
Persons  in  one  God,  and  believe  what  we 
could  not  understand ;  but  I  think  I  do  un- 
derstand about  that  too.  I  thinked  about  it 
when  I  was  sitting  on  the  yocks  this  morning, 
and  I  am  going  to  ask  mamma  if  it  is  yight." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  about  it,  Bessie  ?  " 

"  Why,"  said  Bessie,  holding  up  her  little 
finger,  "  don't  you  know  I  have  a  silver  three 
cent  piece  ?  Well,  there's  three  pennies  in  it  — 
mamma  said  so,  —  but  it's  only  one  piece  of 
money,  and  I  suppose  it's  somehow  that  way 
about  three  Persons  in  one  God,  —  Father,  Son, 
and  Holy  Ghost,  —  three  Persons  in  one  God."* 

If  the  colonel  had  looked  surprised  before, 

*  The  above  train  of  reasoning  was  actually  carried  out  by 
•  child  of  five  years. 


128  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

he  looked  still  more  so  now,  while  Mrs.  Rusti 
laid  down  her  work  and  gazed  at  the  child. 

"Who  told  you  that,  Bessie?"  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  nobody,"  said  Bessie,  innocently ;  "  1 
just  thinked  it ;  maybe  it  is  not  yight.  I 
couldn't  ask  mamma  about  it  all  day,  'cause 
she  was  busy,  or  some  one  came  to  see  her ; 
and  I  don't  like  to  ask  her  things  when  some- 
body is  there." 

Mrs.  Rush  looked  out  of  the  window  by 
which  she  sat,  and  seemed  to  be  watching  the 
sea ;  and  Bessie  stood,  softly  patting  tho 
colonel's  knee  with  her  hand,  while  for  a  mo- 
ment or  two  no  one  spoke.  Suddenly  Bessie 
looked  up  in  the  colonel's  face. 

"  Colonel  Yush,"  she  said, "  don't  you  have  a 
great  deal  of  faith  ?  " 

"  Id  some  people,  Bessie,"  he  answered. 
"  I  have  a  great  deal  of  faith  in  my  little  wife, 
and  a  great  deal  in  my  pet  Bessie,  and  some 
few  others." 

"Oh,  I  mean  in  our  Father,"  she  said.  "  I 
should  think  you'd  have  more  faith  than  'most 


Faith.  129 

anybody,  'cause  he  took  such  good  care  of 
you  in  the  battles." 

"  What  ?  "  said  the  colonel,  "  when  my  leg 
was  shot  off? " 

Bessie  did  not  know  whether  he  was  in 
earnest  or  not,  but  she  did  not  think  it  was  a 
thing  to  joke  about,  and  he  did  not  look  very 
well  pleased,  though  he  laughed  a  little  when 
he  spoke. 

"  Oh,  don't  make  fun  about  it,"  she  said, 
"  I  don't  think  He  would  like  it.  He  could 
have  let  you  be  killed  if  He  chose,  but  He 
didn't ;  and  then  He  took  such  care  of  you  all 
that  night,  and  let  your  men  come  and  find 
you.  Don't  you  think  He  did  it  'cause  He 
wanted  you  to  love  Him  more  than  you  did 
before  ?  Oh,  I  know  you  must  have  a  great 
deal  of  faith  !  Didn't  you  keep  thinking  of 
Jesns  all  that  night,  and  how  he  died  for  you 
so  his  Father  could  forgive  your  sins,  and  take 
you  to  heaven  if  you  died  ?  " 

"  I  was  very  thankful  when  I  heard  my  men 
coming,  Bessie  ;  but  I  was  too  weak  to  think 


130  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

much,"  said  the  colonel.  "  Come,  let  us  wind 
the  box  and  have  some  music ;  hand  me  that 
key." 

"  But  you  think  a  great  deal  about  it  when 
you  don't  feel  so  bad;  don't  you?"  persisted 
the  child,  as  she  gave  him  the  key  of  the  mu- 
sical box. 

"  Pshaw ! "  said  the  colonel,  throwing  it 
down  again  on  the  table ;  "  what  absurdity  it 
is  to  fill  a  child's  head  —  " 

"  Horace ! "  said  Mrs.  Rush,  in  a  quick, 
startled  voice. 

The  colonel  stopped  short,  then  taking  up 
the  paper-cutter,  began  tapping  the  table  in  a 
very  impatient  manner.  "  I  am  sick  of  the 
whole  thing,"  he  said  ;  "  there  seems  to  be  no 
end  to  it.  Wife,  sister,  and  friend,  from  the 
parson  to  the  baby,  every  one  has  something 
to  say  on  the  same  subject.  I  tell  you  I  will 
have  no  more  of  it  from  any  one.  I  should 
have  supposed  I  would  have  been  safe  there. 
And  my  own  words  turned  into  a  handle 
against   me  too."     And  he  looked  at  Bessie, 


Faith.  J31 

who  had  drawn  a  little  away  from  him  and 
stood  gazing  at  him  with  fear  and  wonder  in 
her  large  eyes.  She  had  never  seen  him 
angry  before,  and  she  could  not  think  what 
had  made  him  so  now. 

"  Am  I  naughty  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  darling,"  said  Mrs.  Rush,  holding  out 
her  hand. 

Bessie  ran  over  to  her.  Mrs.  Rush  lifted 
her  up  in  her  lap. 

"  Did  I  talk  too  much  ?  "  asked  Bessie.  "  1 
did  not  mean  to  tease  him." 

"  See  that  steamship  coming  in,  Bessie," 
said  Mrs.  Rush,  in  a  voice  that  shook  a  little. 
"  I  think  it  must  be  the  '  Africa,'  which  is  to 
bring  Gracie  Howard's  father.  Will  she  not 
be  glad  to  see  him  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Bessie  ;  but  she  did  not  look  at 
the  steamer,but  watched  the  colonel,  who  still 
seemed  vexed,  and  kept  up  his  tattoo  with  the 
paper-cutter. 

Nobody  spoke  again  for  a  few  moments,  and 
Bessie  grow    more  and   more  uncomfortable. 


132  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Presently  she  gave  a  long  sigh,  and  leaned  he* 
cheek  on  her  hand. 

"  Are  you  tired,  dear  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Rush. 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  "  but  I'm  so  uncomf'a- 
ble.  I  think  I  had  yather  go  to  mamma  in 
grandmamma's  yoom." 

Mrs.  Rush  put  her  down,  and  was  leading 
her  away,  but  when  they  reached  the  door, 
Bessie  drew  her  hand  from  hers  and  ran  back 
to  the  colonel.  "  I  am  sorry  I  teased  you," 
she  said.  "  I  didn't  know  you  didn't  like 
people  to  talk  about  that  night ;  I'll  never  do 
it  any  more  again." 

The  colonel  threw  down  the  paper-cutter, 
and  catching  her  in  his  arms,  kissed  her  hear- 
tily two  or  three  times.  "  You  do  not  tease 
me,  my  pet,"  he  said  ;  "  you  did  not  know  how 
cross  your  old  soldier  could  be  ;  did  you  ?  " 

"  You  was  not  so  very  cross,"  she  said,  pat- 
ting his  cheek  lovingly  with  her  little  hand. 
"  Sick,  lame  people  can't  be  patient  all  the 
time,  and  I  do  talk  too  much  sometimes  ;  mam- 
ma says  I  do.     Next  time  I  come,  I'll  be  so 


Faith.  133 

quiet."  Then  she  ran  back  to  Mrs.  Rush,  who 
took  her  to  her  grandmamma's  room  and  left 
her  at  the  door. 

Bessie  went  to  mamma,  and  tried  to  climb 
upon  her  lap.  Mrs.  Bradford  lifted  her  up, 
but  she  was  talking  to  her  mother,  and  did 
not  notice  her  little  girl's  troubled  face  till 
Mrs.  Stanton  signed  to  her  to  look  at  Bessie, 
Then  she  asked,  "  What  is  it,  dearest  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  mamma,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Has  something  troubled  you  ? "  asked 
mamma. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  I  teased  the  colonel." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Maggie,  "  did  you  slam  the 
door  ? " 

"  No,  I  talked  about  what  he  didn't  like," 
said  Bessie,  with  a  quivering  lip ;  "  I  talked 
about  that  night,  and  it  teased  him.  I  didn't 
know  he  didn't  like  to  hear  about  it,  mamma. 
I  s'pose  it's  because  he  suffered  so  much  he 
don't  like  to  think  of  it." 

Mamma  had  no  need  to  ask  what  night  she 
meant ;  ever  since  Bessie  had   heard  of    the 


134  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

terrible  night  when  the  colonel  had  lain  upon 
the  battle-field,  faint  and  almost  dying  from 
his  dreadful  wounds,  thinking  that  he  should 
never  see  his  home  and  friends  again,  the  story 
had  seemed  to  be  constantly  in  her  mind ;  and 
she  spoke  of  it  so  often  that  her  mother  knew 
quite  well  what  she  meant.  "  What  did  you 
say  about  it,  dear  ?  "    she  asked. 

Bessie  could  not  remember  all,  but  she  told 
enough  to  let  her  mother  see  what  had  dis- 
pleased the  colonel.  But  Mrs.  Bradford  did 
not  tell  her  little  girl,  for  she  knew  it  would 
distress  her  very  much  to  know  that  the  brave 
soldier  of  whom  she  was  so  fond  did  not  like 
to  be  reminded,  even  by  a  little  child,  of  his 
debts  and  duty  to  the  merciful  Father  who  had 
kept  him  through  so  many  dangers  and  who 
had  sent  his  dear  Son  to  die  for  him. 


X. 

THE   SICK  BABT. 

|NE  night  the  dear  little  baby  was  very 
sick.  Bessie  woke  many  times,  and 
as  often  as  she  did  so,  she  found  that 
nurse  had  not  come  to  bed,  and  when  she 
looked  through  the  open  door  which  led  intc 
her  mother's  room,  she  saw  either  her  father  or 
mother  walking  up  and  down  with  the  baby, 
trying  to  hush  her  pitiful  cries  and  moans.  In 
the  morning  the  doctor  was  sent  for,  and 
grandmamma  came  over  to  the  cottage  and 
stayed  all  day  ;  but  the  baby  grew  worse  and 
worse.  In  the  afternoon  Maggie  and  Bessie 
went  into  their  mamma's  room  and  stood  by 
her  side  looking  at  their  little  sister,  who  was 
lying  on  her  lap.  The  baby  seemed  very  rest- 
less, and  was  moaning  and  throwing  its  arms 
about ;  suddenly  it  threw  back  its  head  with  a 
very  strange  look  on  its  face,  and  clinched  its 


136  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

tiny  hands.  Mamma  caught  it  in  her  arms,  and 
she  and  grandmamma  nailed  for  nurse  to  bring 
warm  water.  Mrs.  Jones  came  with  it  in  a 
minute,  saying,  "  I  had  it  all  ready,  for  I 
thought  it  would  be  wanted."  Maggie  ran 
away  ;  she  could  not  bear  to  see  baby  look  and 
act  so  strangely  ;  but  Bessie  stayed  till  grand- 
mamma sent  her  out  of  the  room.  In  a  short 
time,  Jane  came  to  take  the  little  girls  to  the 
beach.  They  did  not  want  to  go,  and  begged 
her  to  let  them  stay  at  home ;  but  she  said  she 
could  not  keep  Franky  in  the  house  all  the  af- 
ternoon, and  she  thought  their  mamma  would 
wish  them  to  go  out  as  usual  ;  so  they  said  no 
more,  and  went  with  her,  like  the  obedient 
children  they  were. 

They  found  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush  down  on 
the  beach.  Mrs.  Rush  talked  to  Jane  a  little, 
and  then  said  she  would  go  up  and  see  baby. 
She  left  the  little  girls  with  the  colonel,  and 
he  tried  to  amuse  them  ;  but  although  he  told 
them  a  very  interesting  story,  they  did  not 
care  about  it  half  as  much  as  usual. 


The  Sick  Baby.  13 J 

Mrs.  Rush  stayed  a  good  while,  and  came 
back  with  a  very  grave  face,  and  when  her  hus- 
band asked,  "  How  is  the  child  ?  "  she  looked  at 
him  without  speaking ;  but  Maggie  and  Bessie 
knew  by  this  that  the  baby  was  worse.  Then 
Mrs.  Rush  asked  them  if  they  did  not  want  to 
go  to  the  hotel  and  have  tea  with  her  and  the 
colonel,  but  they  said  "  No,"  they  wanted  to 
go  home. 

When  they  went  back  to  the  house,  Jane 
left  the  little  girls  sitting  on  the  door-step, 
while  she  took  Franky  in  to  give  him  his 
supper.  It  was  a  very  quiet,  lovely  evening. 
The  sun  had  gone  down,  but  it  was  not  dark 
yet.  The  sky  was  very  blue,  and  a  few  soft 
gray  clouds,  with  pink  edges,  were  floating 
over  it.  Down  on  the  beach  they  could  see 
the  people  walking  and  driving  about ;  but 
not  a  sound  was  to  be  heard  except  the  cool, 
pleasant  dash  of  the  waves,  and  Farmer 
Jones'  low  whistle  as  he  sat  on  the  horse-block 
with  Susie  on  his  knee.  Susie  sucked  her  fat 
thumb,  and  stared  at  the  children.     They  sat 


138  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

there  without  speaking,  with  their  arms  round 
each  other's  waists,  wishing  they  knew  about 
the  baby.  Presently  Mrs.  Jones  came  down 
stairs  and  called  out  over  the  children's  heads, 
"  Sam'l."  Mr.  Jones  got  up  off  the  horse- 
block and  came  towards  them.  "  Here,"  said 
Mrs.  Jones,  handing  him  a  paper,  "  they  want 
you  to  go  right  off  to  the  station  and  send  up 
a  telegraph  for  the  city  doctor.  Sere  it  is  ; 
Mr.  Bradford  writ  it  himself,  and  he  says 
you're  to  lose  no  time.  'Taint  a  mite  of  use 
though,  and  it's  just  a  senseless  wastin'  of 
your  time." 

"  Not  if  they  want  it  done,"  said  Jones. 
"  Why,  Susan,  s'pose  everybody  hadn't  done 
everything  they  could  when  we  thought  this 
one  was  going  to  be  took,  wouldn't  we  have 
thought  they  was  hard-hearted  creeturs  ?  I 
aint  done  thanking  the  Almighty  yet  for  leav- 
ing her  to  us,  and  I  aint  the  man  to  refuse 
nothing  to  them  as  is  in  like  trouble, — not  if  it 
was  to  ride  all  the  way  to  York  with  the  tele- 
gram." 


The  Sick  Baby.  139 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  want  you  to  refuse  'em," 
said  Mrs.  Jones,  —  "  one  can't  say  no  to  them 
as  has  a  dyin'  child  ;  but  I  do  say  it's  no  use. 
It  will  all  be  over  long  before  the  doctor  comes  ; 
all  the  doctors  in  York  can't  save  that  poor 
little  lamb.  Anyhow,  if  I  was  Miss  Bradford, 
I  wouldn't  take  on  so ;  she's  got  plenty  left." 

"  I'll  do  my  part,  anyhow,"  said  the  farmer, 
as  he  handed  Susie  to  her  mother,  and  then 
hurried  off  to  saddle  his  horse  and  ride  away 
to  the  station  as  fast  as  possible,  while  Mrs. 
Jones  carried  Susie  off  to  the  kitchen. 

"  Maggie,"  whispered  Bessie,  "  what  does 
she  mean?  " 

"  The  bad,  hateful  thing  !  "  answered  Maggie, 
with  a  sudden  burst  of  crying  ;  "  she  means  our 
baby  is  going  to  die.  She  wouldn't  like  any 
one  to  say  that  of  her  Susie,  and  I  don't  believe 
it  a  bit.  Bessie,  I  can't  bear  her  if  she  does 
make  us  cookies  and  turnovers.  I  like  Mr. 
Jones  a  great  deal  better,  and  I  wish  he  didn't 
have  Mrs.  Jones  at  all.  Mamma  wont  have 
plenty   left  if  our  baby   dies  ;  six   isn't  a   bit 


140  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

too  many,  and  she  can't  spare  one  of  us,  I 
know." 

"  But  perhaps  Jesus  wants  another  little 
angel  up  in  heaven,"  said  Bessie,  "  and  so 
he's  going  to  take  our  baby." 

"  Well,  I  wish  he  would  take  somebody 
else's  baby,  "  said  Maggie.  "  There's  Mrs. 
Martin,  she  has  thirteen  children,  and  I  should 
think  she  could  spare  one  very  well ;  and 
there's  a  whole  lot  of  little  babies  at  the  Or- 
phan Asylum,  that  haven't  any  fathers  and 
mothers  to  be  sorry  about  them." 

"  Perhaps  he  thinks  our  baby  is  the  sweet- 
est," said  Bessie. 

"  I  know  she  is  the  sweetest,"  said  Maggie, 
'  but  that's  all  the  more  reason  we  want  her 
ourselves.  She  is  so  little  and  so  cunning; 
I  think  she  grows  cunninger  and  cunninger 
every  day.  Day  before  yesterday  she  laughed 
out  loud  when  I  was  playing  with  her,  and  put 
her  dear  little  hands  in  my  curls  and  pulled 
them,  and  I  didn't  mind  it  so  very  much  it 
she  did  pull  so  hard  1  had  to  squeal  a  little  ; 


The  Sick  Baby.  141 

and  oh !  I'd  let  her  do  it  again,  if  she  would 
only  get  well.  Don't  you  think,  Bessie,  if  we 
say  a  prayer,  and  ask  Jesus  to  let  us  keep  her, 
he  will  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  will,"  said  Bessie ;  "  we'll  try." 

"  Let  us  go  into  the  sitting-room,"  said  Mag- 
gie, "  there  is  no  one  there." 

"  Oh  !  let  us  stay  out  here,"  answered  Bes- 
sie, "  there's  such  a  beautiful  sky  up  there. 
Perhaps  Jesus  is  just  there  looking  at  us,  and 
maybe  he  could  hear  us  a  little  sooner  out 
here.     Nobody  will  see  us." 

They  knelt  down  together  by  the  seat  on  the 
porch.  "  You  say  it,  Bessie,"  said  Maggie, 
wno  was  still  sobbing  very  hard.  She  laid  her 
head  down  on  the  bench,  and  Bessie  put  her 
hands  together,  and  with  the  tears  running 
over  her  cheeks  said,  "  Dear  Jesus,  please  don't 
take  our  darling  little  baby  to  be  an  angel  just 
yet,  if  you  can  spare  her.  She  is  so  little  and 
so  sweet,  and  poor  mamma  will  feel  so  sorry  if 
she  goes  away,  and  we  will,  too,  and  we  want 
her  so  much.     Please,  dear  Jesus,  let  us  keep 


142  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

her,  and  take  some  poor  little  baby  that  don't 
have  any  one  to  love  it,  Amen." 

They  sat  down  again  on  the  door-step  till 
Harry  and  Fred  came  in. 

"  How  is  baby  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

"  We  don't  know,"  said  Maggie ;  "  nobody 
came  down  this  ever  so  long." 

"  Go  up  and  see,  Midget." 

"  Oh !  I  can't,  Harry,"  said  Maggie.  "  I 
don't  want  to  see  that  strange  look  on  baby's 
face."    . 

"  Then  you  go,  Bessie,"  said  Harry  ;  "  my 
shoes  make  such  a  noise,  and  you  move  just 
like  a  little  mouse.     You  wont  disturb  them." 

Bessie  went  up  stairs  and  peeped  in  at  the 
door  of  her  mother's  room.  There  was  no  one 
there  but  papa  and  mamma  and  the  baby. 
Papa  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room  with 
his  arms  folded,  looking  very  sad  and  anxious, 
and  mamma  sat  on  a  low  chair  with  baby  on 
her  lap.  The  little  thing  lay  quiet  now,  with 
its  eyes  shut  and  its  face  so  very,  very  white. 
Mamma  was  almost  as  pale,  and  she  did  not 


The  Sick  Baby.  143 

move  her  eyes  from  baby's  face  even  when 
Bessie  came  softly  up  and  stood  beside  her. 

Bessie  looked  at  her  baby  sister  and  then  at 
her  mother.  Mamma's  face  troubled  her  even 
more  than  the  baby's  did,  and  she  felt  as  it 
she  must  do  something  to  comfort  her.  She 
laid  her  hand  gently  on  her  mother's  shoulder, 
and  said,  "  Dear  mamma,  don't  you  want  to 
have  a  little  angel  of  your  own  in  heaven  ?  " 

Mamma  gave  a  start  and  put  her  arm  far- 
ther over  the  baby,  as  if  she  thought  something 
was  going  to  hurt  it.     Papa  stopped  his  walk 
and  Bessie  went  on, — 

"  Maggie  and  I  asked  Jesus  to  spare  her  to 
us,  if  he  could ;  but  if  he  wants  her  for 
himself,  we  ought  not  to  mind  very  much ; 
ought  we  ?  And  if  you  feel  so  bad  about  it 
'cause  she's  so  little  and  can't  walk  or  speak, 
I'll  ask  him  to  take  me  too,  and  then  I  can 
tell  the  big  angels  just  how  you  took  care  of 
her,  and  I'll  help  them.  And  then  when  you 
come  to  heaven,  you  will  have  two  little  angels 
of  your  own  waiting  for  you.     And  we'll  al- 


144  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

ways  be  listening  near  the  gate  for  you,  dear 
mamma,  so  that  when  you  knock  and  call  us, 
we'll  be  yeady  to  open  it  for  you ;  and  if  we 
don't  come  yight  away,  don't  be  frightened, 
but  knock  again,  for  we'll  only  be  a  little  way 
off,  and  we'll  come  just  as  fast  as  I  can  bring 
baby ;  and  she'll  know  you,  for  I'll  never  let 
her  forget  you.  And  while  you  stay  here, 
dear  mamma,  wont  it  make  you  very  happy 
to  think  you  have  two  little  children  angels  of 
your  own,  waiting  for  you  and  loving  you  all 
the  time  ?  "  * 

Mamma  had  turned  her  eyes  from  the  baby's 
face,  and  was  watching  her  darling  Bessie  as 
she  stood  there  talking  so  earnestly  yet  so 
softly ;  and  now  she  put  her  arm  around  her 
and  kissed  her,  while  the  tears  ran  fast  from 
her  eyes  and  wet  Bessie's  cheeks. 

"  Please  don't  cry,  mamma,"  said  the  little 
girl ;  "  I  did  not  mean  to  make  you  cry.  Shall 
I  ask  Jesus  to  take  me,  too,  if  he  takes  the 
baby  ?  " 

*  Almost  the  exact  words  of  a  very  lovely  cliild  of  a  friend 
of  the  writer. 


The  Sick  Baby.  145 

"  No,  no,  my  darling,  ask  him  to  leave 
you,  that  you  may  be  your  mother's  little 
comforter,  and  pray  that  he  may  spare  your 
sister  too." 

"  And  if  he  cannot,  mamma  ?  " 

"  Then  that  he  may  teach  us  to  say, 
'  Thy  will  be  done,' "  said  her  father,  coming 
close  to  them  and  laying  his  hand  on  Bessie's 
head.  "  He  knows  what  is  best  for  us  and  for 
baby." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  "  and  I  suppose  if  he 
takes  her,  he  will  carry  her  in  his.  arms  just 
as  he  is  carrying  the  lambs  in  the  picture  of 
the  Good  Shepherd  in  our  nursery.  We  need 
not  be  afraid  he  wont  take  good  care  of  her  ; 
need  we,  mamma  ?  " 

"No,  darling,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "we 
need  not  fear  to  give  her  to  his  care,  and  my 
Bessie  has  taught  her  mother  a  lesson." 

"  Did  I,  mamma  ?  "  said  the  little  girl,  won- 
dering what    her    mother  meant ;  but    before 
she  could  answer,  grandmamma  came  in  with 
the  country  doctor. 
10 


146  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Mr.  Bradford  took  Bessie  in  his  arms,  and 
after  holding  her  down  to  her  mother  for 
another  kiss,  carried  her  from  the  room. 
When  he  had  her  out  in  the  entry,  he  kissed 
her  himself  many  times,  and  whispered,  as  if 
he  was  speaking  to  himself,  "  God  bless  and 
Keep  my  angel  child." 

"  Yes,  papa,"  said  Bessie,  thinking  he 
meant  the  baby,  "  and  Maggie  and  I  will  say 
another  prayer  about  her  to-night ;  and  I  keep 
thinking  little  prayers  about  her  all  the  time, 
and  that's  just  the  same,  papa  ;  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  darling,"  said  her  father ;  and 
then  he  put  her  down  and  stood  and  watched 
her  as  she  went  down  stairs. 

It  was  not  the  will  of  our  Father  in  heav- 
en that  the  dear  little  baby  should  die.  Late 
in  the  night  the  doctor  came  from  New  York, 
and  God  heard  the  prayers  of  the  baby's 
father  and  mother  and  little  sisters,  and 
blessed  the  means  that  were  used  to  make  it 
well ;  and  before  the  morning  it  was  better, 
and  fell  into  a  sweet,  quiet  sleep. 


XI. 

THE  HAPPY  CIRCUMSTANCE. 


HE  next  morning,  when  Bessie  woke 
HJJjjj  up,  it  was  very  quiet  in  the  nursery. 
She  lay  still  a  moment,  wondering 
what  it  was  that  had  troubled  her  last  night ; 
and  just  as  she  remembered  about  the  baby, 
she  heard  a  little  discontented  sound  at  her 
side.  She  turned  her  head  and  looked 
around,  and  there  sat  Maggie  on  the  floor  be- 
side the  trundle-bed,  with  one  sock  and  one 
shoe  on,  and  the  other  shoe  in  her  hand.  She 
looked  rather  cross. 

"  Maggie,"  said  Bessie,  "  has  the  baby  gone 
to  heaven  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Maggie,  "  and  I  don't  believe 
she's  going  just  yet.  Our  own  doctor  camo 
in  the  night,  and  she's  a  great  deal  better ; 
and  now  she's  fast  asleep." 

"  And  don't  you  feel  glad  then  ?  " 


148  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  am  real  glad  of  that"  said 
Maggie. 

"  Then  why  don't  you  look  glad  ?  What  is 
the  matter  ? " 

"  I  can't  find  my  clo',"  said  Maggie,  in  a 
fretful  tone. 

"  What  clo  '  ?  " 

"  Why,  my  sock." 

"  Why  don't  nurse  or  Jane  find  it  for  you  ? ,J 
asked  Bessie. 

"I  can't  wait,"  said  Maggie;  "I  want  it 
now  ;  nurse  is  holding  baby  because  mamma 
has  gone  to  sleep  too,  and  Jane  has  taken 
Franky  to  Harry's  room  to  dress  him,  because 
she  was  afraid  he  would  make  a  noise ;  and 
she  said  if  I  put  on  my  shoes  and  socks,  and 
all  the  rest  of  my  under-clo's  before  she  came 
back,  I  might  put  on  yours,  if  you  waked  up. 
And  that's  a  great  'sponsibility,  Bessie ;  and  I 
want  to  do  it,  and  now  I  can't." 

"  Look  some  more,"  said  Bessie,  who  was 
very  well  pleased  at  the  thought  of  having  her 
sister  dress  her. 


The  Haj>j)y  Circumstance.         149 

"  I  have  looked  all  over,"  said  Maggie.  "  I 
just  expect  a  robber  came  in  the  night  and 
stole  it." 

"  Why,  it  would  not  fit  him  !  "  said  Bessie. 

"  Well,  1  guess  he  has  a  bad  little  robber 
girl  of  his  own  that  he  has  taken  it  to,"  said 
Maggie.  "Anyhow,  she'll  be  bare  one  foot, 
and  I'm  glad  of  it." 

Bessie  sat  up  in  the  bed  and  looked  around 
the  room.  "  I  see  a  pair  of  clean  socks  over 
there  on  your  petticoats,"  she  said. 

"  So  there  is,"  said  Maggie  ;  and  quite  good- 
natured  again,  she  began  to  dress  as  fast  as 
she  could. 

"  Maggie,"  said  Bessie,  as  she  lay  down 
again  to  wait  till  her  sister  was  ready,  "  what 
was  the  name  of  that  word  you  said  ?  " 

"  What,—  'sponsibility  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  it ;  say  it  again." 

"  Spons-er-bil-er-ty,"  said  Maggie,  slowly. 

*'  Oh  !  "  said  Bessie,  with  a  long  breath,  as  if 
that  word  was  almost  too  much  for  her,  "  what 
docs  it  mean  ?  " 


150  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  It  means  something  to  do  or  to  take  care 
of." 

"  Then  when  mamma  put  baby  on  the  bed 
the  other  day,  and  told  me  to  take  care  of  her, 
was  that  a  great  spons-er-bil-er-ty  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Maggie. 

"  It's  a  nice  word  ;  isn't  it,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  it  is  not  so  nice  as  happy  circum- 
stance." 

"  Oh,  that  is  very  nice  ?  What  does  that 
mean,  Maggie  ? " 

"  It  means  something  very  nice  and  pleas- 
ant. I'm  going  to  say  happy  circumstance  to 
some  one  to-day,  if  I  get  a  chance." 

"  Whom  are  you  going  to  say  it  to  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  yet ;  but  I  shall  not  say  it  to 
the  boys,  for  they  laugh  at  us  when  we  say 
grown-up  words.  You  may  say  it,  Bessie,  if 
you  want  to." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  would  not  say 
your  new  words  before  you  say  them  yourself; 
that  would  not  be  fair,  and  I  would  not  do  it 
for  a  hundred  dollars." 


The  Haj)j>y  Circumstance.         151 

"  Well,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  would  not  let  any 
one  else  do  it,  but  you  may  say  any  of  my 
words  you  want  to,  Bessie." 

While  they  were  talking  away,  Maggie  was 
putting  on  her  clothes,  and  then  Bessie  got 
up ;  and  by  the  time  Jane  came  back,  Maggie 
had  nearly  dressed  her  sister  too.  Jane  called 
Maggie  a  good,  helpful  little  girl,  which  pleased 
her  very  much,  for  she  liked  praise. 

After  breakfast,  as  the  children  were  stand- 
ing on  the  porch  waiting  for  Jane  to  take  them 
for  their  walk,  Harry  came  along  and  told 
them,  if  they  would  come  out  to  the  barn,  he 
would  give  them  a  swing.  They  never  said 
no  to  the  offer  of  a  swing,  and,  much  pleased, 
followed  him  to  the  barn,  where  they  found 
Mr.  Jones  sitting  outside  of  the  door  mending 
his  nets.  He  took  down  the  swing  for  them, 
lifted  Bessie  in,  and  then  went  back  to  his 
work.  Maggie  had  said  that  Bessie  should 
take  her  turn  first,  and  that,  while  Harry  was 
swinging  her,  she  would  go  out  and  talk  to 
Mr.  Jonesi      They  were  very  good  friends  now, 


152  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

and  Maggie  was  not  at  all  afraid  of  him,  but 
sat  watching  him  with  great  interest  as  he 
filled  up  the  broken  places  in  his  nets. 

"  Well,  and  so  the  little  sister  is  better  this 
morning  ?  "  said  Mr.  Jones. 

"  Yes,"  said  Maggie ;  "  and  we  are  very 
much  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Jones." 

"  What  for  ?"  asked  Jones. 

"  Because  you  went  so  quick  to  send  for  our 
own  doctor." 

"  Deary  me,  that  wasn't  nothing,"  said  Mr. 
Jones.     "  Fd  ha'  been  a  heathen  if  I  hadn't." 

Maggie  stood  silent  for  a  few  moments, 
watching  him,  and  then  said,  slowly,  but  very 
earnestly,  "  Mr.  Jones,  do  you  think  Mrs. 
Jones  is  a  very  happy  circumstance  ?  " 

Mr.  Jones  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  as  if 
he  did  not  quite  understand  her,  and  then  he 
smiled  as  he  said,  "  Well,  yes,  I  reckon  I  do ; 
don't  you  ?  " 

"No,  I  don't"  said  Maggie.  "What  did 
make  you  marry  her,  Mr.  Jones  ?  " 

"  Because  I  thought  she  would  make  me  a 
good  wife." 


Bessie  at  Sea  Side. 


P.  152. 


The  Haffy  Circumstance.         153 

"  And  does  she  ?  " 

"  First-rate  ;  don't  you  think  she  does  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  don't  like 
her  very  much  ;  I  like  you  a  great  deal  better 
than  I  do  her ;  I  think  you  are  a  very  nice 
man,  Mr.  Jones." 

"  I  guess  I'm  about  of  the  same  opinion 
about  you,"  said  Mr.  Jones  ;  "  but  what  is  the 
reason  you  don't  like  Mrs.  Jones  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Maggie,  "  because  she  —  she  — 
does  things.  She  makes  me  just  as  mad  as  a 
hop." 

"  What  things  ?  " 

"  She  goes  and  has  trnndle-beds,"  said  Mag- 
gie. 

Mr.  Jones  laughed  out  now  as  he  said, 
"  Oil,  you  haven't  got  over  that  trouble  yet, 
eh  ?     Well,  what  else  does  she  do  ?  " 

"  She  said  we  could  spare  our  baby,  and  we 
couldn't,"  said  Maggie,  angrily ;  "  and  she 
didn't  want  you  to  go  send  the  message  for 
our  own  doctor.  I  think  she  ought  to  be 
ashamed." 


154  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

"  She  didn't  mean  it,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  coax- 
ingly. 

"  People  ought  not  to  say  things  they  don't 
mean,"  said  Maggie. 

"  No  more  they  oughtn't,  but  yet  you  see 
they  do  sometimes." 

"  And  she  said  mamma  took  on,"  said  Mag- 
gie, "  and  mamma  would  not  do  such  a  thing ; 
mamma  is  a  lady,  and  ladies  do  not  take 
on." 

This  seemed  to  amuse  Mr.  Jones  more  than 
anything  else,  and  he  laughed  so  loud  and  so 
long  that  Mrs.  Jones  came  out  to  the  kitchen 
door.  "  Sam'l,"  she  called,  "  what  are  you 
making  all  that  noise  about  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't  tell  her !  ''  said  Maggie  ;  while 
Mr.  Jones  laughed  harder  than  ever,  and  she 
saw  that  Mrs.  Jones  was  coming  towards  them. 

"  Don't  you  be  afraid,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  "  I 
aint  goin'  to  tell  her." 

"  Now  aint  you  just  ashamed  of  yourself, 
Sam'l,"  said  Mrs.  Jones  as  she  came  up,  "  to 
be  making  all  that  hee-hawing,  and  poor  Miss 


The  Haffiy  Circumstance.         155 

Bradford  and  that  little  sick  lamb  lying  asleep  ? 
Do  you  want  to  wake  'em  up  ?  Is  he  laughing 
at  you,  Maggie  ?  " 

Maggie  hung  her  head,  and  looked  as  if  she 
would  like  to  run  away. 

"  I  s'pose  he's  just  tickled  to  death  about 
some  of  your  long  words,  that  he  thinks  so 
funny,"  said  Mrs.  Jones.  "  It  does  not  take 
much  to  set  him  going.  Never  you  mind  him, 
come  along  with  me  to  the  kitchen,  and  -<ee  the 
nice  ginger  cakes  I  am  makin'  for  your  sup- 
per. I'll  make  you  and  Bessie  a  gingerbread 
man  apiece.  Such  good  children  you  was 
yesterday,  keeping  so  quiet  when  the  baby  was 
sick,  and  trying  to  help  yourselves  when  your 
poor  'ma  and  your  nurse  was  busy.  If  it  had 
been  them  young  ones  that  was  here  last  sum- 
mer, they'd  have  kept  the  house  in  a  riot  from 
night  till  morning  when  they  was  left  to  them- 
selves Jane  was  tellin'  me  how  nicely  you 
dressed  yourself  and  Bessie  this  morning. 
Now,  Sara'l,  you  stop  bein'  such  a  g  >'  se."' 

Poor  Maggie   did   not   know  which  way  to 


156  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

look.  Here  was  Mrs.  Jones,  whom  she  had 
just  been  saying  she  did  not  like,  praising  and 
petting  her  and  promising  gingerbread  men  ; 
and  oh,  Mr.  Jones  was  laughing  so !  He  was 
not  laughing  out  loud  now,  but  he  was  shak- 
ing all  over,  and  when  Maggie  peeped  at  him 
from  under  her  eyelashes,  he  twinkled  his  eyes 
at  her,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Now,  what  do  you 
think  of  her  ?  "  Right  glad  was  she  when  Har- 
ry called  her  to  take  her  turn  at  the  swing, 
and  she  could  run  away  out  of  sight  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Jones. 

In  a  few  days  the  dear  baby  was  quite  well 
and  bright  again,  while  her  little  sisters 
thought  they  loved  her  more  than  ever,  now 
that  she  had  been  spared  to  them  when  they 
had  so  much  feared  they  were  to  lose  her. 


XII. 

MISS  ADAMS. 

MONG  the  many  pleasures  which  Mag- 
gie and  Bessie  Bradford  enjoyed  at 
Quarn  Beach,  there  was  none  which 
they  liked  much  better  than  going  over  to  the 
hotel  to  see  the  dear  friends  who  were  staying 
there.  Sometimes  it  was  to  stay  a  while  with 
grandmamma  and  Aunt  Annie;  perhaps  to 
take  a  meal  with  them  at  the  long  hotel  table ; 
to  hear  grandmamma's  stories,  or  to  have  a 
frolic  with  Aunt  Annie  and  their  little  play- 
mates. Aunt  Annie  was  a  young  girl  herself, 
merry  and  full  of  mischief,  and  liked  play 
almost  as  well  as  Maggie.  Then  there  were 
tho  e  delightful  visits  to  Colonel  and  Mrs. 
Rush,  which  the  colonel  said  he  enjoyed  more 
than  they  did  ;  but  they  thought  that  could 
not  be  possible.  They  knew  a  good  many  of 
the  other  people,  too,  and  almost  every  one 


158  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

was  pleased  to  see  the  two  well-behaved,  lady- 
like little  girls. 

But  there  was  staying  at  the  hotel  a  lady 
who  used  to  amaze  Maggie  and  Bessie  very 
much.  Her  name  was  Miss  Adams.  She 
was  very  tall  and  rather  handsome,  with 
bright,  flashing  black  eyes,  a  beautiful  color 
in  her  cheeks,  and  very  white  teeth.  But  she 
had  a  loud,  rough  voice  and  laugh,  and  a 
rude,  wild  manner,  which  was  more  like  that 
of  a  coarse  man  than  a  young  lady.  Then 
she  talked  very  strangely,  using  a  great  many 
words  which  are  called  "  slang,"  and  which 
are  not  nice  for  any  one  to  use,  least  of  all  for 
a  lady.  Maggie  ran  away  whenever  she  came 
near  ;  but  Bessie  would  stand  and  watch  her 
with  a  grave,  disapproving  air,  which  was 
very  amusing  to  those  who  saw  it. 

Miss  Adams  generally  had  a  number  of 
gentlemen  around  her,  with  whom  she  was 
very  familiar,  calling  them  by  their  names 
without  any  "  Mr.,"  slapping  them  on  the 
shoulder,  laughing  and  talking  at  the  top  of 


Miss  Adams.  159 

her  voice,  and  altogether  behaving  in  a  very 
unladylike  way.  But  Bessie  thought  it  very 
strange  that  sometimes,  when  Miss  Adams  had 
been  acting  in  this  rough,  noisy  manner,  after 
she  went  away,  the  gentlemen  would  shrug 
their  shoulders,  and  laugh  and  talk  among 
themselves,  as  if  they  were  making  unkind 
remarks  about  her.  She  thought  they  could 
not  like  her  very  much,  after  all,  when  they 
did  so. 

One  evening  Harry  came  home  from  the 
hotel  in  a  state  of  great  indignation.  Miss 
Adams  had  a  beautiful  dog  named  Carlo. 
He  was  a  water  spaniel,  and  was  a  great  favor- 
ite w  ith  all  the  boys,  who  often  coaxed  him  to 
the  shore,  where  they  could  play  with  him. 
Miss  Adams  was  generally  willing  enough  to 
have  him  go  ;  but  that  afternoon,  when  she 
was  going  out  in  her  pony  carriage,  she  want- 
ed him  to  go  with  her,  and  he  was  not  to  be 
found.  Something  had  happened  before  to 
put  her  out,  and  she  was  very  angry  at 
Carlo's  absence.     She   had   gone   but  a  little 


160  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side . 

way,  when  it  began  to  rain,  and  she  had  to  turn 
back.  This  vexed  her  still  more  ;  and  just  as 
she  jumped  from  her  carriage,  Carlo  ran  up. 

"  So,  sir,"  she  said,  with  an  angry  frown, 
"  I'll  teach  you  to  run  away  without  leave ! " 
and  taking  the  poor  dog  by  the  back  of  the 
neck,  she  thrashed  him  with  the  horse-whip 
she  held  in  her  other  hand.  Carlo  whined 
and  howled,  and  looked  up  in  her  face  with 
pitiful  eyes ;  but  she  only  whipped  him  the 
harder.  The  ladies  turned  pale  and  walked 
away,  and  the  gentlemen  begged  her  to  stop, 
but  all  in  vain  ;  she  kept  on  until  her  arm  was 
quite  tired,  and  then  the  poor  dog  crept  away 
shaking  and  trembling  all  over.  The  boys 
were  furious,  and  Maggie  and  Bessie  were 
very  much  distressed  when  they  heard  the 
story,  and  disliked  Miss  Adams  more  than 
ever. 

When  the  baby  was  quite  well  again,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bradford  took  a  drive  of  some  miles, 
to  spend  the  day  with  an  old  friend.  They 
took    only  baby   and    nurse    with    them,  and 


Miss  Adams.  161 

Maggie  and  Bessie  went  up  to  the  hotel  to 
stay  with  their  grandmamma.  It  was  a  very 
warm  day,  and  grandmamma  called  them  in- 
doors earlier  than  usual.  But  they  did  not 
care  much,  for  Aunt  Annie  was  a  capital  play- 
mate, and  she  amused  them  for  a  long  time. 

But  just  as  she  was  in  the  midst  of  a  most 
interesting  story,  some  ladies  came  to  make  a 
visit  to  grandmamma.  One  of  the  ladies  was 
old  and  rather  cross,  and  she  did  not  like  chil- 
dren, and  Aunt  Annie  thought  that  it  would 
not  be  very  pleasant  for  her  little  nieces  to  be 
in  the  room  while  she  was  there.  So  she  gave 
them  a  pack  of  picture  cards  and  a  basket  of 
shells,  and  said  they  might  go  and  play  with 
them  on  one  of  the  long  settees  which  stood 
on  the  piazza. 

There  were  only  one  or  two  people  on  the 
piazza,  and  the  children  spread  out  their 
shells  and  pictures,  and  were  very  busy  and 
happy  for  some  time.  They  heard  Miss  Ad- 
ams' loud  voice  in  the  hall,  but  did  not  pay 

any  attention  to  her. 
11 


1 62  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Presently  she  came  out  on  the  piazza,  fol- 
lowed by  three  or  four  gentlemen,  and  looked 
around  for  a  shady  place.  She  saw  none  that 
she  liked  as  well  as  that  where  Maggie  and 
Bessie  were  playing,  and  coming  up  to  them, 
she  sat  down  on  the  other  end  of  the  bench. 
The  gentlemen  stood  around. 

"  Here,  Thorn,"  said  Miss  Adams,  "  sit 
down  here ;  "  and  she  moved  nearer  to  Bessie, 
sweeping  down  some  of  the  shells  and  pic- 
tures with  her  skirts.  Mr.  Thorn  obeyed, 
and  Maggie  whispered  to  Bessie,  "  Let's  go 
away."  Bessie  said,  "  Yes  ;  "  and  they  began 
to  gather  up  their  treasures,  Maggie  stooping 
to  pick  up  those  which  Miss  Adams  had 
thrown  down.  Presently  Bessie  felt  a  pretty 
hard  pull  at  one  of  her  long  curls.  She  was 
sure  it  was  Miss  Adams,  although  she  did  not 
see  her ;  but  she  said  nothing,  only  shook 
back  her  hair,  and  put  on  the  look  she  al- 
ways did  when  Miss  Adams  was  doing  any- 
thing of  which  she  did  not  approve. 

There  came  another  pull,  this  time  a  little 
harder.     "Don't,"  said  Bessie. 


Miss  Adams.  163 

A  third  pull,  just  as  Maggie  raised  her 
head  aud  saw  Miss  Adams'  hand  at  Bessie's 
hair. 

"Don't!"  said  Bessie  again,  in  a  louder 
and  more  impatient  tone. 

"  Come  now,  Lovatt,"  said  Miss  Adams, 
"  are  you  not  ashamed  to  be  pulling  a  young 
lady's  hair  ? " 

"Oh!"  said  Maggie,  astonished  out  of  her 
shyness,  "  you  did  it  yourself!     I  saw  you." 

Miss  Adams  shook  her  fist  at  Maggie,  and 
then  gave  a  longer  and  harder  pull  at  Bessie's 
hair. 

"  When  I  tell  you  to  don't,  why  don't  you 
don't?"  said  Bessie,  furiously,  stamping  her 
foot,  and  turning  to  Miss  Adams,  her  face 
crimson  with  anger. 

Miss  Adams  and  the  gentlemen  set  up  a 
shout  of  laughter,  and  Mr.  Lovatt,  who  was 
standing  just  behind  Bessie,  caught  her  up  in 
his  arms  and  held  her  high  in  the  air. 

Now  Bessie  disliked  Mr.  Lovatt  almost  as 
much    as   she    did    Miss    Adams.     He   was  a 


l6q  Be&sie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

great  tease,  and  was  always  running  after  her 
and  trying  to  kiss  her.  He  had  never  done  it 
yet,  for  she  had  always  managed  to  run  away 
from  him,  or  some  of  her  friends  had  inter- 
fered to  save  her  from  being  annoyed. 

"  Put  me  down  ! "  she  said. 

"  Not  until  you  have  given  me  three  kisses," 
said  Mr.  Lovatt.  "I  have  you  now,  and  you 
cannot  help  yourself." 

"  Put  me  down  !  "  screamed  Bessie,  furious 
with  passion. 

"  For  shame,  Lovatt !  "  said  Mr.  Thorn,  and 
Mr.  Lovatt  looked  for  a  moment  as  if  he 
was  going  to  put  Bessie  down  ;  but  Miss  Ad- 
ams laughed  and  said, — 

"  You  are  not  going  to  let  that  little  mite 
get  the  better  of  you  1  Make  her  kiss  you. 
Such  airs  !  " 

Mr.  Lovatt  lowered  the  struggling  child  a 
little,  but  still  held  her  fast  in  his  arms,  while 
Maggie  ran  off  to  call  her  grandmamma. 

"  Kiss  me,  and  I'll  let  you  go,"  said  Mr. 
Lovatt. 


Miss  Adams.  165 

"  I  wont,  I  wont !  "  shrieked  Bessie.  "  I'll 
tell  my  papa." 

u  Your  papa  is  far  away,"  said  Miss  Ad- 
ams. 

"  I'll  tell  Colonel  Yush  !  "  gasped  Bessie. 

"  Do  you  think  I  care  a  rush  for  him  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Lovatt,  as  he  tried  to  take  the  kisses 
she  would  not  give.  Bessie  screamed  aloud, 
clinched  one  little  hand  in  Mr.  Lovatt's  hair, 
and  with  the  other  struck  with  all  her  force 
upon   the    mouth  that  was  so  near  her  own. 

"  Whew  !  "  said  Mr.  Lovatt,  as  he  quickly 
set  Bessie  upon  her  feet,  "  who  would  have 
thought  that  tiny  hand  could  have  stung 
so?" 

"  You  little  tiger  !  "  said  Miss  Adams,  seiz- 
ing Bessie  by  the  shoulder  and  giving  her  a 
shake.  "  You  are  the  child  they  call  so  good  ; 
are  you  ?  Why,  there's  not  another  in  the 
house  would  have  flown  into  such  a  passion 
for  nothing.     What  a  furious    temper  !  " 

Bessie  had  never  been  shaken  before.  It 
was  a  punishment  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brad- 


166  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

ford  would  not  have  thought  proper  for  a 
child,  were  she  ever  so  naughty,  and  she  had 
never  been  punished  at  all  by  any  one  but  her 
father  or  mother,  and  that  but  seldom.  But  it 
was  not  so  much  the  shaking  as  Miss  Adams' 
words  which  sobered  Bessie  in  an  instant. 
She  had  been  in  a  passion  again  !  She  stood 
perfectly  silent,  her  lips  and  cheeks  growing 
so  white  that  Miss  Adams  was  frightened,  bu 
just  then  Mrs.  Stanton  stepped  out  on  th  \ 
piazza  and  came  quickly  toward  them.  They 
all  looked  ashamed  and  uncomfortable  as  the 
stately  old  lady  lifted  her  little  granddaughter 
in  her  arms  and  spoke  a  few  words  of  stern 
reproof  to  the  thoughtless  young  people  who 
could  find  amusement  in  tormenting  a  little 
child.     Then  she  carried  Bessie  away. 


XIII. 

BESSIE'S  REPENTANCE. 


RS.  STANTON  would  have  come  soon- 
er, but  her  visitors  were  just  leaving 
when  Maggie  came  in,  and  she  did 
not  quite  understand  at  first  how  it  was.  Miss 
Ellery,  a  young  lady  who  had  been  standing 
by,  rushed  into  Mrs.  Stanton's  room  after  she 
carried  Bessie  in,  and  told  her  how  the  little 
girl  had  been  treated.  Mrs.  Stanton  was  very 
much  displeased,  but  just  now  she  could  think 
of  nothing  but  the  child's  distress.  She  shook 
all  over,  and  the  sobs  and  tears  came  faster 
and  faster  till  grandmamma  was  afraid  she 
would  be  ill.  She  soothed  and  comforted  and 
Dotted  in  vain.  Bessie  still  cried  as  if  her 
leart  would  break.  All  she  could  say  was, 
'•  Oh,  mamma,  mamma !  I  want  my  own 
Laamma !  " 

At  last  Mrs.  Stanton  said  kindly  but  firmly, 


1 68  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

"  Bessie,  my  child,  you  must  be  quiet.  You 
will  surely  be  sick.  Grandmamma  is  very 
sorry  for  you,  but  your  head  cannot  hurt  you 
^0  very  much  now." 

"  Oh,  no !  "  sobbed  the  little  girl,  clinging 
tbout  her  grandmother's  neck,  "  it  isn't  that, 
grandmamma;  I  don't  care  much  if  she  did 
pull  my  hair ;  but  oh,  I  was  so  wicked !  I 
was  in  a  passion  again,  and  I  was  so  bad  !  I 
struck  that  man,  I  know  I  did.  Jesus  will  be 
sorry,  and  he  will  be  angry  with  me  too.  He 
will  think  that  I  don't  want  to  be  his  little 
child  any  more,  'cause  I  was  so  very,  very 
naughty.     Oh  !  what  shall  I  do  ? " 

"  Tell  Jesus  that  you  are  sorry,  and  ask 
him  to  forgive  you,  Bessie,"  said  grandmam- 
ma, gently. 

"  Oh  !  I  am  'fraid  he  can't,"  sobbed  Bessie  ; 
"  he  must  be  so  very  angry.  I  didn't  think 
about  him,  and  I  didn't  try  one  bit,  grand- 
mamma. I  just  thought  about  what  Miss 
Adams  and  that  man  did  to  me,  and  I  was  in 
such  a  dreadful   passion  ;   I  never  was  so  bad 


Bessie 's  Repentance.  169 

before.  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  tell  my  own 
mamma  about  it !  " 

All  this  was  said  with  many  sobs  and  tears 
and  catchings  of  her  breath,  and  grandmamma 
wished  that  Miss  Adams  could  see  the  distress 
she  had  caused. 

"  Bessie,"  she  said,  "  why  did  Jesus  come 
down  from  heaven  and  die  on  the  cross  ?  " 

"  So  our  Father  in  heaven  could  forgive  us," 
answered  the  child  more  quietly. 

"  And  do  you  not  think  that  his  precious 
blood  is  enough  to  wash  away  our  great  sins 
as  well  as  those  which  we  may  think  are 
smaller  ?  " 

"  Yes,  grandmamma." 

"Now,  no  sin  is  small  in  the  eyes  of  a  just 
and  holy  God,  Bessie  ;  but  when  he  made  such 
a  great  sacrifice  for  us,  it  was  that  lie  might 
be  able  to  forgive  every  one  of  our  sins  against 
him,  if  we  are  truly  sorry  fur  them.  And  he 
will  surely  do  so,  my  darling,  and  help  and 
love  us  still,  if  we  ask  him  for  the  sake  of  that 
dear  Son." 


1 7 0  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"And  will  he  listen  to  me  noiv,  grandmam 
ma,  just  when  I  was  so  very  naughty  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  is  always  ready  to  hear  us.  No 
matter  how  much  we  have  grieved  him,  he 
will  not  turn  away  when  we  call  upon  him." 

Bessie  was  silent  for  some  minutes  with  her 
face  hidden  on  her  grandmother's  neck,  and 
her  sobs  became  less  violent.  At  last  she 
whispered,  "  Grandmamma,  do  you  think 
Jesus  can  love  me  just  as  much  as  he  did 
before  ?  " 

"  Just  as  much,  my  precious  one,"  said 
grandmamma,  drawing  her  arms  close  about 
Bessie,  and  pressing  her  lips  on  the  little  curly 
head.  Then  Bessie  raised  her  face  and  turned 
around  in  her  grandmamma's  lap.  A  very 
pale  little  face  it  was,  and  very  weak  and  tired 
she  looked  ;  but  she  lay  quite  quiet  now  except 
for  a  long  sob  which  still  came  now  and  then. 
Maggie  wondered  why  grandmamma  bit  her 
lip,  and  why  her  eyebrows  drew  together  in  a 
frown,  as  if  she  were  angry.  She  could  not  be 
displeased  with  Bessie  now,  she  thought. 


Bessie's  Repentance.  171 

Presently  grandmamma  began  to  sing  in  a 
low  voice,  — 

"  Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 
Save  that  thy  blood  was  shed  for  me, 
And  that  thou  bid'st  me  come  to  thee, 
0  Lamb  of  God  !  I  come. 

"  Just  as  I  am,  and  waiting  not 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 
To  thee,  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot, 
O  Lamb  of  God !  I  come. 

"Just  as  I  am  thou  wilt  receive, 
Wilt  welcome,  pardon,  cleanse,  relieve, 
Because  thy  promise  I  believe, 
0  Lamb  of  God  !  I  come. 

"Just  as  I  am,  —  thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down ; 
Now  to  be  thine,  yea,  thine  alone 
0  Lamb  of  God  !  I  come." 

When  she  had  sung  one  verse.,  Maggie 
joined  in,  and  Bessie  lay  listening.  When 
they  were  through,  Mrs.  Stanton  put  Bessie 
down  in  a  corner  of  the  lounge,  and  said  the 
children  must  have  some  lunch.  First  she 
rang  the  bell,  and  then   went  to  a  little  cup- 


172  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

board  at  the  side  of  the  fireplace  and  brought 
out  two  small  white  plates,  which  Maggie  and 
Bessie  knew  quite  well.  Presently  the  waiter 
came  to  the  door  to  know  what  Mrs.  Stanton 
wanted.  This  was  James,  the  head  waiter. 
He  knew  Maggie  and  Bessie,  and  they  were 
great  favorites  with  him.  His  wife  washed 
for  some  of  the  ladies  in  the  hotel,  and  once 
when  she  came  there  with  some  clothes,  she 
brought  her  little  girl  with  her,  and  left  her  in 
the  hall  with  her  father,  who  was  busy  there. 
She  was  a  very  little  girl,  and  could  just  walk 
alone,  and  while  she  was  toddling  about  after 
her  father,  she  fell  down  and  knocked  her  head 
against  the  corner  of  a  door.  She  cried  very 
hard,  and  James  tried  to  quiet  her,  lest  she 
should  disturb  some  of  the  boarders.  But  she 
had  a  great  bump  on  her  head,  and  she  did  not 
see  any  reason  why  she  should  be  still  when 
it  hurt  her  so.  She  was  still  crying  when 
Maggie  and  Bessie  came  through  the  hall. 
Each  had  a  stick  of  candy,  which  some  one  had 
just  given  them.     When  they  heard  the  little 


Bessie  s  Repentance.  173 

one  crying,  they  stopped  to  ask  what  ailed 
her. 

"  I'll  give  her  my  candy,"  said  Maggie. 

"Yes,  do,"  said  Bessie,  "and  I'll  give  you 
half  of  mine." 

The  child  stopped  crying  when  she  had  the 
nice  stick  of  candy.  James  was  very  much 
pleased,  and  after  that  he  was  always  glad  to 
wait  upon  our  little  girls.  He  had  just  now 
heard  the  story  of  Bessie's  trouble,  for  Miss 
Ellery  had  taken  pains  to  spread  it  through 
the  house,  so  vexed  was  she  at  Miss  Adams, 
and  James  had  been  by  when  she  was  telling 
some  of  the  ladies.  He  felt  very  sorry  for 
Bessie,  and  wished  that  he  could  do  some- 
thing for  her.  When  he  came  to  answer  Mrs. 
Stanton's  ring,  she  asked  him  to  bring  soma 
bread  and  butter. 

"  Is  it  for  the  little  ladies,  ma'am  ?  "  asked 
James.  Mrs.  Stanton  said,  "  Yes,"  and  James 
asked  if  they  would  not  like  toast  better. 
Two  or  throe  times  when  Maggie  and  Bessie 
had  taken  tea  with  their  grandmamma,  he  had 


174  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

noticed  that  Bessie  always  asked  for  toast. 
Mrs.  Stanton  cnanked  him  and  said  yes,  for 
she  ciiought  perhaps  Bessie  would  eat  toast 
when  she  would  not  eat  bread. 

"  But  can  I  have  it  at  this  time  of  the 
day  ?  "  she  said. 

"  No  fear,  ma'am,"  said  James.  "  You 
shall  have  it,  if  I  make  it  myself;  "  and  with  a 
nod  to  the  children,  he  went  away. 

Bessie  sat  quiet  in  a  corner  of  the  so^„,  still 
looking  very  grave. 

"  Don't  you  feel  happy  now,  Bessie  ?  "  said 
Maggie,  creeping  close  to  her,  and  putting  her 
arm  around  her.  "  I  am  sure  Jesus  will  for- 
give you." 

"  Yes,  I  think  he  will,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  but 
I  can't  help  being  sorry  'cause  I  was  so 
naughty." 

"  You  was  not  half  so  bad  as  Miss  Adams, 
if  you  did  get  into  a  passion,"  said  Maggie, 
"  and  I  don't  believe  he'll  forgive  her." 

"  Oh,  Maggie  !  "  said  Bessie. 

w  Well,  I  don't  believe  she'll  ask  him." 


Bessie's  Repentance.  175 

"  Then  I'll  ask  him,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Now,  Bessie,  don't  you  do  it !  " 

"  But  I  ought  to  ask  him,  if  I  want  him  to 
forgive  me,"  said  Bessie.  "  When  we  say 
1  Our  Father  in  heaven,'  we  say  '  Forgive  us 
our  sins  as  wo  forgive  those  that  sin  against 
us.'  I  think  Miss  Adams  sinned  against  me 
a  little  bit ;  don't  you,  Maggie  ?  " 

"No,  I  don't,"  said  Maggie.  "  No  little  bit 
about  it.  /  think  she  sinned  against  you  a 
great  bit,  —  as  much  as  the  whole  ocean." 

"  Then  if  I  want  Jesus  to  forgive  me,  I  ought 
to  forgive  her,  and  to  ask  him  to  forgive  her 
too.  I  think  I  ought.  I'm  going  to  ask 
mamma  to-night." 

"  Jsha'n't  do  it,  I  know,"  said  Maggie.  "  I 
wish  I  was  as  tall  as  she  is;  no,  —  as  tall  as 
papa  or  Colonel  Rush,  and  oh!  wouldn't  she 
get  it  then  !  " 

"  "What  would  you  do  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"I  don't  know,  —  something.  Oh,  yes! 
don't  you  know  the  pictures  of  Bluebeard's 
wives,  where  they're  all  hanging  up  by  their 


176  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

hair  ?  I'd  just  hang  her  up  that  way,  and  then 
her  hair  would  be  nicely  pulled.  And  I'd  get 
the  boys  to  come  and  poke  her  with  sticks." 
Maggie  said  this,  shaking  her  head  with  a  very 
determined  look. 

The  idea  of  Miss  Adams  hanging  up  by  her 
hair  made  Bessie  laugh  ;  but  in  a  moment  she 
looked  grave  again.  "  I  don't  believe  that's 
yiglit,  Maggie,"  she  said. 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  Maggie.  "  I'm  going 
to  say  it." 

Just  then  James  came  back,  and  they  forgot 
Miss  Adams  for  a  while.  He  brought  a  nice 
plate  of  toast  and  some  butter.  Grandmamma 
spread  two  pieces  of  toast  and  laid  them  on 
the  little  plates,  and  then  went  back  again  to 
the  famous  cupboard  and  brought  out  —  oh, 
delicious  !  —  a  box  of  guava  jelly.  She  put  a 
spoonful  on  each  plate,  and  gave  them  to  the 
children.  "  Now,  remember,"  she  said,  "  the 
jelly  goes  with  the  toast." 

Bessie  looked  rather  doubtfully  at  her  toast. 
"  Grandmamma,   I  don't  feel  very   hungry." 


Bessie's  Repentance.  177 

"  But  you  must  eat  something,  Bessie  ;  it  is 
long  after  your  luncheon  time,  and  it  will  not 
do  for  you  to  go  until  dinner  without  eating. 
Mamma  will  think  I  did  not  take  good  care  of 
pou." 

But  the  toast  tasted  so  good  with  the  guava 
*elly  that  Bessie  eat  the  whole  of  hers  and 
tven  asked  for  more,  to  grandma's  great  pleas- 
ire.  When  she  brought  it  to  her  with  some 
nore  jelly,  she  saw  that  Bessie  had  still  some 
af  the  sweetmeats  left  on  her  plate.  "  Don't 
you  like  your  jelly,  dear  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Bessie,  "  but  I  didn't 
know  if  I  could  eat  all  the  toast,  and  I  thought 
perhaps  you  only  wanted  me  to  eat  just  so 
much  share  of  the  guava  as  I  eat  a  share  of 
the  toast ;  so  I  eat  that  first  to  be  sure." 

Grandma  smiled,  but  she  did  not  praise  her 
honest  little  granddaughter,  for  she  did  not 
think  it  best. 

When  Aunt  Annie  heard  Miss  Ellery  tell 
how   Bessie  had  been   treated,  she    was  very 

angry,  and  said  some  things  about  Miss  Adams 

12 


178  Bessie  at  the  Sca-Sidc. 

and  Mr.  Lovatt  which  her  mother  did  not  wish 
to  have  her  say  before  the  children.  She  told 
her  so,  speaking  in  French  ;  so  Annie  said  no 
more  just  then  ;  but  as  soon  as  Bessie  ceased 
crying,  she  ran  out  to  tell  Miss  Adams  what 
she  thought  of  her  conduct.  But  happily  Miss 
Adams  was  not  to  be  found,  and  before  Annie 
saw  her  again,  her  mother  had  persuaded  her 
that  it  was  better  to  say  nothing  about  it. 

But  now  when  she  could  not  find  Miss 
Adams,  she  went  off  to  Mrs.  Rush's  room  and 
told  her  and  the  colonel  the  whole  story.  The 
colonel  was  angry  enough  to  please  even  An- 
nie. He  said  so  much,  and  grew  so  excited, 
that  Mrs.  Rush  was  sorry  Annie  had  told  him. 
He  was  far  more  displeased  than  he  would 
have  been  with  any  insult  to  himself,  and 
when,  soon  after,  he  met  Mr.  Lovatt  in  the 
hall,  he  spoke  so  severely  and  angrily  to  him 
that  Mr.  Lovatt  was  much  offended.  Yery 
high  words  passed  between  the  two  gentlemen, 
and  the  quarrel  might  have  become  serious,  if 
Mr.  Howard  had  not  interfered. 


Bessie's  Repentance.  179 

Miss  Adams  heard  all  this,  and  when  she 
found  how  much  trouble  and  confusion  she 
had  caused  by  her  cruel  thoughtlessness,  she 
felt  rather  ashamed,  and  wished  she  had  not 
tormented  the  little  child  who  had  never  done 
her  any  harm.  But  this  was  not  the  last  of 
it,  for  Miss  Adams  was  to  be  punished  a  little 
by  the  last  person  who  meant  to  do  it. 


XIV. 

WHO  IS  A   LADTf 


N  the  afternoon  the  children  asked 
their  grandmother  if  they  might  go 
down  upon  the  beach,  but  she  said  it 
was  still  too  warm,  and  she  did  not  wish  Bessie 
to  go  out  until  the  sun  was  down. 

"  Grandma  is  going  to  take  her  nap  now," 
said  Aunt  Annie  ;  "  suppose  we  go  out  on  the 
piazza  and  have  a  store,  and  ask  Lily  and  Gra- 
de to  come  play  with  you." 

"  Is  Miss  Adams  there  ?  "  asked  Maggie. 

"  No,  but  the  colonel  has  had  his  arm-chair 
taken  out,  and  is  sitting  there  with  Mrs.  Rush, 
and  I  am  going  there  with  my  work  ;  so  you 
will  be  quite  safe." 

"  Oh,  then  we'll  go,"  said  Bessie.  She  did 
not  feel  afraid  where  the  colonel  was. 

"  Are  you  going  to  sew  with  Mrs.  Rush 
again  ?  "  asked  Maggie. 


Who  is  a  Lady  ?  181 

Aunt  Annie  laughed  and  pinched  her 
cheeks,  telling  her  not  to  be  inquisitive.  For 
the  last  few  days  Aunt  Annie  had  always 
seemed  to  be  sewing  with  Mrs.  Rush,  and  they 
were  very  busy,  but  they  did  not  appear  to 
wish  to  let  the  little  girls  know  what  they 
were  doing.  Annie  was  always  whisking  her 
work  out  of  their  sight,  and  if  they  asked  any 
questions,  they  were  put  off,  or  told,  as  Mag- 
gie was  now,  not  to  be  curious. 

Once  when  they  were  staying  with  the 
colonel,  when  Mrs.  Rush  had  gone  out  for  a 
while,  he  sent  Bessie  to  a  certain  drawer  to 
find  a  knife.  Bessie  did  as  she  was  told,  but 
as  she  was  looking  for  it,  she  suddenly  called 
out,  "  Oil,  what  a  dear  darling  little  cap  !  just 
like  a  dolly's.  Why,  does  Mrs.  Yush  play 
witli  dolls  when  nobody  looks  at  her?  " 

"Holloa!"  said  the  colonel,  "I  forgot; 
come  away  from  that  drawer.  I'm  a  nice 
man  ;  can't  keep  my  own  secrets." 

Maggie  was  going  to  ask  some  questions  : 
but  the  colonel  began  to  talk   about  something 


1 82  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

else,  and  they  both  forgot  the  little  cap.  But 
they  were  very  curious  to  know  why  Aunt 
Annie  and  Mrs.  Rush  were  always  whispering 
and  laughing  and  showing  each  other  their 
work,  as  well  as  why  it  was  so  often  put  away 
when  they  came  near.  To-day  Aunt  Annie 
was  embroidering  a  little  piece  of  muslin,  but 
she  did  not  put  it  out  of  their  sight,  though 
she  would  answer  no  questions  about  it. 

They  all  went  out  on  the  piazza  to  set  about 
making  what  Maggie  called,  "  A  Grocery  and 
Perwision  Store."  The  piazza  steps  ended  in 
two  large  blocks  of  wood,  and  on  one  of  these 
they  were  to  play.  Aunt  Annie  made  some 
paper  boxes  to  hold  some  of  their  things,  and 
they  had  clam  shells  for  the  rest.  They  had 
sand  for  sugar,  blades  of  timothy  grass  for 
corn,  sea-weed  for  smoked  beef  and  ham,  and 
small  pebbles  for  eggs,  with  larger  ones  for 
potatoes.  In  short,  it  was  quite  wonderful  to 
see  the  number  of  things  they  contrived  to 
have  for  sale.  When  the  colonel  found  what 
they  were  about,  he  called  for  a  couple  of  clam 


Who  is  a  Lady  P  1S3 

shells,  and  sent  his  man  for  a  piece  of  wood 
and  some  twine ;  with  these  he  made  a  pair  of 
scales,  which  Maggie  and  Bessie  thought  quite 
splendid.  To  be  sure,  one  side  was  ever  so 
much  heavier  than  the  other,  but  that  did  not 
matter  in  the  least ;  neither  they  nor  their 
customers  would  be  troubled  by  a  trifle  like 
that.  Then  he  gave  them  a  couple  of  bullets 
and  some  shot  for  weights,  so  that  the  whole 
thing  was  fixed  in  fine  style. 

Maggie  went  to  call  Lily  and  Gracie,  and 
when  Mamie  Stone  heard  what  was  going  on, 
she  asked  if  she  might  come  too.  Maggie  said 
"  Yes,"  for  Mamie  was  not  so  disagreeable  as 
she  used  to  be  when  she  first  came  to  Quam 
Beach.  However  fretful  and  selfish  she  was 
when  she  was  playing  with  other  children,  she 
was  almost  always  pleasant  when  she  was  with 
Maggie  and  Bessie. 

Maggie  went  back  with  her  to  their  little 
playmates,  and  in  a  few  moments  they  were 
all  as  busy  as  bees.  Maggie  said  Bessie  must 
be  store-keeper,  for  she  knew  she  did  not  feel 
like  running  about. 


184  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

They  had  been  playing  but  a  little  while, 
when  Walter  came  up,  and  when  he  saw  what 
they  were  doing,  he  said  he  would  be  a  cus- 
tomer too.  He  was  a  capital  playfellow,  and 
pretended  to  be  ever  so  many  different  people. 
First,  he  was  an  old  negro  man,  then  he  was  a 
naughty  boy,  who  meddled  with  everything  on 
the  counter,  and  gave  the  little  shop-woman  a 
great  deal  of  trouble,  which  she  enjoyed  very 
much  ;  then  he  was  a  Frenchman,  who  spoke 
broken  English ;  and  after  that,  he  pretended 
to  be  a  cross  old  Irishman. 

While  they  were  playing  so  nicely,  who 
should  come  sweeping  down  the  piazza  but 
Miss  Adams,  dressed  in  her  riding-habit? 
Away  went  all  the  little  girls  like  a  flock  of 
frightened  birds.  Mamie  and  Lily  ran  into 
the  parlor,  where  they  peeped  at  her  from 
behind  the  blinds ;  Gracie  scrambled  into 
Annie  Stanton's  lap ;  Maggie  squeezed  herself 
in  between  the  colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush ;  and 
Bessie  walked  to  the  other  side  of  the  colonel, 
where  she  stood  with  her  hand  on  his  chair. 


Who  is  a  Lady?  185 

Miss  Adams  was  vexed  when  she  saw  them 
all  fly  off  so,  for  she  had  not  come  with  any 
intention  of  interrupting  or  teasing  them. 
She  was  going  out  to  ride,  and  had  walked  to 
the  window  of  the  hall  above,  to  see  if  the 
horses  were  at  the  door,  and  there  she  had 
noticed  the  children  at  their  play. 

Bessie  stood  quietly  behind  her  counter, 
while  the  rest  ran  about  after  Maggie.  She 
looked  more  pale  and  languid  than  usual  that 
afternoon,  as  she  always  did  when  she  had 
been  tired  or  excited.  All  the  soft  pink  color 
which  had  come  into  her  cheek  since  she  had 
been  at  Quam  Beach  was  quite  gone  ;  it  was  no 
wonder  that  grandma  frowned  and  bit  her  lip 
to  keep  herself  from  saying  sharp  things  when 
she  looked  at  her  darling  that  day. 

Now,  Miss  Adams  always  said  that  she  was 
afraid  of  nobody,  and  did  not  care  what  people 
said  of  her ;  but  us  she  watched  the  delicate 
little  child,  who  she  knew  had  been  brought 
by  her  parents  to  the  sea-shore  that  she  might 
gain  health  and  strength,  she  felt  sorry  that 


186  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

she  had  plagued  her  so,  and  thought  that  she 
would  like  to  make  it  up  with  her.  She  went 
into  her  room,  put  a  large  packet  of  sugar- 
plums into  her  pocket,  and  then  went  down 
stairs.  She  came  up  to  Bessie  just  as  the  lit- 
tle girl  reached  the  colonel's  side,  and,  stand- 
ing before  her,  said, — 

"  Well,  Bessie,  are  you  in  a  better  humor 
yet?" 

Bessie  was  certainly  not  pale  now.  A  very 
bright  color  had  come  into  her  cheeks,  as  Miss 
Adams  spoke  to  her,  but  she  said  nothing. 

"  Come,"  said  Miss  Adams,  holding  out  the 
parcel,  "  here  are  some  sugar-plums  for  you  ; 
come,  kiss  me  and  make  up." 

"I'll  forgive  you,"  said  Bessie,  gravely; 
"  but  I  don't  want  the  sugar-plums." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  do!"  said  Miss  Adams; 
"  come  and  kiss  me  for  them." 

"  I  don't  kiss  people  for  sugar-plums,"  said 
Bessie;    "and  I'm  sure  I  don't  want  them." 

"  Then  come  and  kiss  me  without  the  sugar- 
plums." 


Who  is  a  Lady?  187 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  "  I'll  shake  hands  with 
you,  but  I  don't  kiss  people  I  don't  like." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Miss  Adams,  "  I  suppose  you 
keep  all  your  kisses  for  your  friend,  the  colo- 
nel." 

"  Oh,  no,"  answered  Bessie,  "  a  great  many 
are  for  papa  and  mamma,  and  the  yest  of  the 
people  I  like." 

Miss  Adams  saw  that  the  colonel  was  laugh- 
ing behind  his  newspaper,  and  she  was  pro- 
voked. 

"  And  you  don't  like  me,  eh  ?  "  she  said, 
sharply.  "  Don't  you  know  it's  very  rude  to 
tell  a  lady  yon  don't  like  her,  and  wont  kiss 
her  ?  " 

Bessie  opened  her  eyes  very  wide.  "  Are 
you  a  lady  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a  tone  of  great  sur- 
prise. 

Mrs.  Rush  did  not  wish  to  have  Miss  Adams 
go  on  talking  to  the  child,  for  she  was  afraid 
straightforward  Bessie  would  say  something 
which  would  cause  fresh  trouble ;  and  she 
begged  Annie  Stanton  to  take  her  away ;  but 


i88  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Annie  would  not ;  she  rather  enjoyed  the 
prospect,  and  when  Mrs.  Rush  would  have 
spoken  herself,  her  husband  put  out  his  hand 
and  stopped  her, 

"  A  lady  !  "  repeated  Miss  Adams  ;  "  what 
do  you  take  me  for  ?  Don't  you  know  a  lady 
when  you  see  one  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Bessie,  innocently. 
"  Mamma's  a  lady,  and  grandma  and  Aunt 
Annie  and  Mrs.  Yush,  and  ever  so  many  oth- 
ers." 

"  And  I'm  not,  eh  ? "  said  Miss  Adams, 
angrily." 

Bessie  did  not  answer,  but  peeped  up  under 
the  colonel's  paper,  to  see  if  he  would  help  her ; 
but  he  did  not  seem  inclined  to  interfere. 
His  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  paper  which  he  held 
before  his  face,  and  his  other  hand  was  busily 
engaged  in  smoothing  his  moustache. 

Miss  Adams  was  very  angry.  She  would 
not  have  cared  if  she  had  been  alone  with  Bes- 
sie ;  but  she  was  provoked  that  she  should  tell 
her  she  was  not  a  lady,  before  so  many  people, 


Who  ts  a  Lady.  189 

for  two  or  three  gentlemen  had  gathered  near, 
and  the  colonel's  amusement  vexed  her  still 
more. 

"  You  don't  call  me  a  lady,  eh  ?  "  said  Miss 
Adams  again. 

"  How  can  you  quarrel  with  such  a  baby 
about  nothing,  Miss  Adams  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Rush, 
rising  from  her  seat. 

"  She  is  no  baby.  She  knows  very  well 
what  she  is  about,  and  she  has  been  put  up  to 
this,"  said  Miss  Adams,  with  a  furious  look  at 
the  colonel.  "  Who  told  you  I  was  not  a 
lady  ?  " 

"  Nobody ;  I  just  knew  it  myself,"  said 
Bessie,  drawing  closer  to  the  colonel,  as  Miss 
Adams  came  nearer  to  her.  He  threw  down 
his  paper,  and  put  his  hand  over  her  shoulder. 

"  You  little  impertinent !  "  said  Miss  Adams, 
"  who  made  you  a  judge,  I  should  like  to  know? 
Not  a  lady,  indeed  !  " 

Poor  Bessie  !  She  would  not  say  what  she 
did  not  think,  and  she  did  not  like  to  say  what 
she  did   think  ;   but   she  was  tired  of  the  dis- 


190  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

pute,  and  thought  Miss  Adams  would  have  an 
answer.     She  gave  a  long  sigh,  and  said, — 

"  Well,  perhaps  you  are  a  kind  of  a  lady  ; 
but  if  you  are,  it  must  be  a  kitchen  or  stable 
lady." 

The  gentlemen  who  were  standing  by  walk- 
ed quickly  away ;  Mrs.  Rush  looked  fright- 
ened ;  Annie  bent  her  head  down  on  Grade's 
shoulder,  and  shook  with  laughter ;  and  the 
colonel  reached  his  crutches  and,  rising,  began 
to  steady  himself. 

Miss  Adams  stood  silent  a  moment,  and  then 
began  to  speak  in  a  voice  almost  choked  with 
rage,  "  You  little  —  "  when  the  colonel  in- 
terrupted her. 

"Excuse  me,  madam,"  he  said,  "if  I  re- 
mind you  that  you  have  no  one  to  blame  for 
this  but  yourself.  The  child  is  straightfor- 
ward and  honest,  accustomed  to  speak  as  she 
thinks ;  and  if  she  has  said  what  was  better 
left  unsaid,  remember  that  you  forced  her  to 
it.  I  cannot  permit  her  to  be  annoyed  any 
farther  " 


Who  is  a  Lady  ?  191 

Helpless  as  he  was,  he  looked  so  grand  and 
tall  as  he  stood  there  with  his  eyes  fixed  stern- 
ly on  Miss  Adams,  that  she  felt  abashed.  Mrs. 
Rush  had  taken  Bessie  into  her  room,  Annie 
had  followed  with  Maggie  and  Gracie,  and 
there  was  no  one  left  to  quarrel  with  but  the 
colonel.  Just  at  that  moment  the  horses 
were  led  up,  and  she  turned  away  and  went 
down  the  steps  to  mount. 

But  Miss  Adams  had  never  been  so  annoyed. 
She  had  no  mother,  or  perhaps  she  would  not 
have  been  so  rough  and  unladylike  ;  but  she 
had  had  many  a  reproof  from  other  people. 
Many  a  grave,  elderly  lady,  and  even  some  of 
her  own  age,  had  spoken,  some  kindly,  some 
severely,  upon  the  wild,  boisterous  manner  in 
which  she  chose  to  behave.  But  she  had 
always  laughed  at  all  they  said,  and  went  on 
as  before.  But  that  this  innocent  little  child, 
to  whom  she  had  been  so  unkind,  should  see 
for  herself  that  she  had  acted  in  an  improper 
way,  and  one  that  was  only  fit  fur  the  kitchen 
or  stable,  and  should  tell  her  so,  and  show  such 


192  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

surprise  at  hearing  her  call  herself  a  lady,  was 
very  mortifying,  and  she  could  not  forget  it. 

That  evening,  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bradford 
came  home,  they  went  over  to  the  hotel  for 
their  little  girls,  and  Annie  told  them  all  that 
had  happened  that  day.  After  Bessie  was 
undressed,  and  had  said  her  prayers,  she  sat 
on  her  mother's  lap,  and  told  her  of  all  her 
troubles,  and  then  she  felt  happier. 

"  Mamma,  I'm  afraid  I  made  Miss  Adams 
mad,  when  I  said  that,  and  I  didn't  mean  to," 
she  said. 

"But  why  did  you  say  it,  Bessie?  —  it  was 
saucy." 

"Why,  I  had  to,  mamma;  I  didn't  want 
to ;  but  I  couldn't  break  the  truth ;  she  asked 
me  and  asked  me,  so  I  had  to." 

"  Oh,  my  Bessie,  my  Bessie ! "  said  mam- 
ma, with  a  low  laugh,  and  then  she  held  the 
little  girl  very  close  in  her  arms,  and  kissed 
her.  Bessie  nestled  her  head  down  on  her 
mamma's  bosom,  and  her  mother  held  her 
there,  and  rocked  her  long  after  she  was  fast 


Who  is  a  Lady  f  193 

asleep.  Sometimes  she  smiled  to  herself  as 
she  sat  thinking  and  watching  her  child ;  but 
once  or  twice  a  bright  lear  dropped  down  on 
Bessie's  curls.  Mamma  was  praying  that  her 
little  girl  might  live  to  grow  up  and  be  a  good 
Christian  woman,  and  that  she  might  always 
love  the  truth  as  she  did  now,  even  when  she 
was  older  and  knew  it  was  not  wise  to  say  such 
things  as  she  had  done  to-day. 
19 


XV. 

UNCLE   JOHN. 


LETTER  from  Uncle  John!"  said 
mamma,  at  the  hreakfast-table.  "  I 
hope  Nellie  is  no  worse.  No,  she  is 
better ;  but  the  doctor  has  ordered  sea  air  for 
her,  and  they  all  want  to  come  here,  if  we  can 
find  room  for  them,  either  in  this  house  or  in 
the  hotel." 

"  The  hotel  is  full,  I  know,"  said  Mr.  Brad- 
ford ;  "  I  do  not  think  there  is  a  room  to  be 
had.  I  wonder  if  Mrs.  Jones  can  do  anything 
for  us." 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford.  "  Old 
Mr.  Duncan  must  be  with  them  wherever  they 
go,  for  John  is  not  willing  to  leave  his  father 
alone." 

"  We  can  ask  her,  at  least,"  said  Mr.  Brad- 
ford. 

So  the  next  time  Mrs.  Jones  came  in  with  a 


Uncle   John.  195 

plate  full  of  hot  cakes,  she  was  asked  if  she 
could  possibly  take  in  Mr.  Duncan's  family. 

"  Couldn't  do  it,"  she  said.  "  If  you  didn't 
mind  scroudging,  I  could  give  'em  one  room ; 
but  two,  I  can't  do  it.  I've  plenty  of  beds, 
but  no  more  rooms." 

Maggie  and  Bessie  looked  very  much  disap- 
pointed. It  would  be  such  a  pleasure  to  have 
Grandpapa  Duncan,  and  all  the  rest. 

"  Suppose  we  gave  up  this  little  dining- 
room,  and  took  our  meals  in  the  sitting-room," 
said  Mr.  Bradford  ;  "  could  you  put  old  Mr. 
Duncan  in  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  well  enough,"  said  Mrs.  Jones. 
"  Didn't  suppose  you'd  be  willing  to  do  that, 
York  folks  is  so  partickler." 

"  "We  would  be  willing  to  do  far  more  than 
that  to  accommodate  our  friends,"  said  Mrs. 
Bradford,  smiling. 

After  a  little  more  talk  with  Mrs.  Jones,  it 
was  all  settled  ;  so  mamma  sat  down  to  write 
to  Uncle  John,  telling  him  they  might  come 
as  soon  as  they  chose. 


196  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Mamma,"  said  Maggie,  "  what  did  Mrs. 
Jones  mean  by  '  scroudging '  ?  " 

"  She  meant  to  crowd." 

"  I  sha'n't  take  it  for  one  of  my  words,"  said 
Maggie  ;  "  I  don't  think  it  sounds  nice." 

"  No,"  said  mamma,  laughing,  "  I  do  not 
think  it  is  a  very  pretty  word  ;  crowd  is  much 
better." 

The  children  went  out  in  the  front  porch, 
greatly  pleased  with  the  idea  of  having  their 
Riverside  friends  with  them.  Dear  Grand- 
papa Duncan  and  Aunt  Helen,  merry  Uncle 
John  and  little  Nellie !  Maggie  went  hopping 
about  the  path,  while  Bessie  sat  down  on  the 
steps  with  a  very  contented  smile.  Presently 
she  said,  — 

"  Maggie,  if  you  was  on  the  grass,  what 
would  you  be  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Maggie  ;  "just  Maggie 
Stanton  Bradford,  I  suppose." 

"  You'd  be  a  grasshopper,"  said  Bessie. 

Maggie  stopped  hopping  to  laugh.  She 
thought  this  a  very  fine  joke  ;  and  when,  a 


Uncle   John.  197 

moment  after,  her  brothers  came  up  to  the 
house,  she  told  them  of  Bessie's  u  conun- 
drum." They  laughed,  too,  and  then  ran  off 
to  the  barn. 

Maggie  sat  down  on  the  step  by  her  sister. 
"  Bessie,"  she  said,  "  don't  you  think  Mrs. 
Jones  is  very  horrid,  even  if  she  does  make  us 
gingerbread  men  ?  " 

"  Not  very ;  I  think  she  is  a  little  horrid." 

"  I  do,"  said  Maggie ;  "  she  talks  so ;  she 
called  papa  and  mamma  '  York  folks.'  " 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  I  don't  know ;  something  not  nice,  I'm 
sure." 

"  Here  comes  papa,"  said  Bessie ;  "  we'll 
ask  him.  Papa,  what  did  Mrs.  Jones  mean 
by  York  folks  ?  " 

"  She  meant  people  from  New  York,"  said 
Mr.  Bradford. 

"  Then  why  don't  she  say  that  ? "  said 
Maggie;  "it  sounds  better." 

"  Well,  that  is  her  way  of  talking,"  answered 
Mr.  Bradford. 


198  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

"  Do  you  think  it  a  nice  way,  papa  ?  " 

"  Not  very.  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  you 
speak  as  she  does ;  but  you  must  remember 
that  the  people  with  whom  she  has  lived  are 
accustomed  to  talk  in  that  way,  and  she  does 
not  know  any  better." 

"  Then  we'll  teach  her,"  said  Maggie.  "  I'll 
tell  her  she  doesn't  talk  properly,  and  that 
we're  going  to  teach  her." 

"  Indeed,  you  must  do  nothing-  of  the 
kind,"  said  Mr.  Bradford,  smiling  at  the  idea 
of  his  shy  Maggie  teaching  Mrs.  Jones  ;  "  she 
would  be  very  much  offended." 

"  Why,  papa,"  said  Bessie,  "  don't  she  like 
to  do  what  is  yight  ?  " 

"  Yes,  so  far  as  I  can  tell,  she  wishes  to  do 
right ;  but  probably  she  thinks  she  speaks  very 
well,  and  she  would  think  it  impertinent  if  two 
such  little  girls  were  to  try  to  teacli  her.  It  is 
not  really  wrong  for  a  person  to  talk  in  the  way 
she  does,  if  they  know  no  better.  It  would 
be  wrong  and  vulgar  for  you  to  do  so,  because 
you  have  been  taught  to  speak  correctly." 


Uncle   John.  199 

"  And  do  we  do  it  ?  "  said  Bessie.  "  Do  we 
speak  eoryectly  ?  " 

"  Pretty  well  for  such  little  girls,"  said  papa. 

"  Mrs.  Jones  laughs  at  us  because  she  says 
we  use  such  big  words,"  said  Maggie ;  "  and 
Mr.  Jones  does  too.  They  ought  not  to  do  it, 
when  they  don't  know  how  to  talk  themselves. 
I  like  grown-up  words,  and  I  am  going  to  say 
them,  if  they  do  laugh." 

"  Well,  there  is  no  harm  in  that,  if  you  un- 
derstand their  meaning,"  said  papa;  "but  I 
would  not  feel  unkindly  towards  Mrs.  Jones ; 
she  means  to  be  good  and  kind  to  you,  and  I 
think  she  is  so ;  and  you  must  not  mind  if  her 
mannet  is  not  always  very  pleasant." 

"  But  she  called  you  and  mamma  particu- 
lar," said  Maggie,  who  was  determined  not  to 
be  pleased  with  Mrs.  Jones. 

"  Well,  if  Mrs.  Jones  thinks  we  are  too  par- 
ticular about  some  things,  we  think  she  is  not 
particular  enough  ;  so  neither  one  thinks  the 
other  quite  perfect." 

Maggie  did  not  think  this  mended  the  mat- 


200  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

ter  at  all.  But  just  then  the  nurses  came 
with  the  younger  children,  and  after  their 
father  had  played  with  them  for  a  while,  they 
all  went  for  their  morning  walk  on  the  beach. 

Two  days  after,  the  party  came  from  River- 
side, and,  with  some  crowding,  were  all  made 
comfortable.  They  almost  lived  out  of  doors 
in  this  beautiful  weather,  and  so  did  not  mind 
some  little  inconveniences  in  the  house. 

Uncle  John  was  always  ready  for  a  frolic. 
Now  he  would  hire  Mr.  Jones'  large  farm 
wagon  and  two  horses,  cover  the  bottom  of  the 
wagon  with  straw,  pack  in  Aunt  Annie  and 
the  little  Bradfords,  and  as  many  other  boys 
and  girls  as  it  would  hold,  and  start  off  for  a 
long  drive.  Then  he  said  they  must  have  a 
clam-bake,  and  a  clam-bake  they  had ;  not 
only  one,  but  several.  Sometimes  Uncle  John 
would  invite  their  friends  from  the  hotel,  and 
they  would  have  quite  a  grand  affair  ;  but,  gen- 
erally, they  had  only  their  own  family,  with 
Mrs.  Rush,  and  the  colonel  when  he  was  well 
enough  to  come ;  and  the  children  enjoyed  the 


Uncle   John.  201 

smaller  parties  much  more  than  they  did  the 
larger  ones.  First,  a  large,  shallow  hole  was 
made  in  the  sand,  in  which  the  clams  were 
placed,  standing  on  end ;  a  fire  was  built  on 
top  of  them,  and  they  were  left  until  they  were 
well  roasted,  when  they  were  pulled  out  and 
eaten  with  bread  and  butter. 

When  Mrs.  Jones  found  how  fond  the  chil- 
dren were  of  roast  clams,  she  often  had  them 
for  their  breakfast  or  supper ;  but  they  never 
tasted  so  good  as  they  did  when  they  were 
cooked  in  the  sand  and  eaten  on  the  shore. 

One  cool,  bright  afternoon,  Mr.  Bradford 
and  Mr.  Duncan  went  down  to  the  beach  for  a 
walk.  The  children  had  been  out  for  some 
time  :  Maggie  was  racing  about  with  the  boys  ; 
Bessie,  sitting  on  the  sand  beside  a  pool  of 
salt  water,  looking  into  it  so  earnestly  that  she 
did  not  see  her  father  and  uncle  till  they  were 
quite  close  to  her. 

"What  is  my  little  girl  looking  at?"  said 
her  father,  sitting  down  on  a  great  stono 
which  was  near. 


202  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Such  an  ugly  thing !  "  said  Bessie. 

Papa  leaned  forward  and  looked  into  the 
pool,  and  there  he  saw  the  thing  Bessie 
thought  so  ugly.  It  was  a  small  salt-water 
crab  which  had  been  left  there  by  the  tide. 
He  was  very  black  and  had  long,  sprawling 
legs,  spreading  out  in  every  direction.  He 
lay  quite  still  in  the  bottom  of  the  pool,  with 
his  great  eyes  staring  straight  forward,  and  did 
not  seem  to  be  in  the  least  disturbed  by  the 
presence  of  his  visitors. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  ne  is  thinking 
about,  Bessie  ?  "  said  Uncle  John. 

"  I  guess  he  thinks  he  looks  pretty  nasty," 
said  Bessie  ;  "  I  do." 

"  Bessie,"  said  her  father,  "  it  seems  to  me 
that  you  and  Maggie  say  '  nasty '  very  often. 
I  do  not  think  it  is  at  all  a  pretty  word  for 
little  girls  to  use." 

"  Then  I  wont  say  it,"  said  Bessie ;  "  but 
when  a  thing  looks  —  looks  that  way,  what 
shall  I  say  ?  " 

"  You  might  say  ugly,"  said  Mr.  Bradford. 


Uncle   John.  203 

"  But,  papa,  sometimes  a  thing  looks  ugly, 
and  not  nasty.  I  think  that  animal  looks 
ugly  and  nasty  too." 

"  Tell  us  of  something  that  is  ugly,  but  not 
nasty,"  said  Uncle  John. 

Bessie  looked  very  hard  at  her  uncle.  Now 
Mr.  Duncan  was  not  at  all  a  handsome  man. 
He  had  a  pleasant,  merry,  good-natured  face, 
but  he  was  certainly  no  beauty.  Bessie  look- 
ed at  him,  and  he  looked  back  at  her,  with  his 
eyes  twinkling,  and  the  corners  of  his  mouth 
twitching  with  a  smile,  for  he  thought  he  knew 
what  was  coming. 

"  Well  ? "  he  said,  when  Bessie  did  not 
speak  for  a  moment. 

"  Uncle  John,"  said  she,  very  gravely,  "  I 
think  you  are  ugly,  but  I  do  not  think  you  are 
nasty,  a  bit." 

Uncle  John  laughed  as  if  he  thought  this  a 
capital  joke ;  and  Mr.  Bradford  smiled  as  he 
said,  "  It  don't  do  to  ask  Bessie  questions  to 
which  you  do  not  want  a  straightforward  an- 
swer." 


204  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  But  I  want  to  know  about  '  nasty,'  "  said 
Bessie.  "  Is  it  saying  bad  grammar,  like  Mrs. 
Jones,  to  say  it  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly,"  said  Mr.  Bradford,  "  and  you 
may  say  it  when  a  thing  is  really  nasty ;  but  I 
think  you  often  use  it  when  there  is  no  need. 
Perhaps  this  little  fellow  does  look  nasty  as 
well  as  ugly ;  but  the  other  day  I  heard  Mag- 
gie say  that  Mamie  Stone  was  a  nasty,  cross 
child.  Now,  Mamie  may  be  cross,  —  I  dare 
say  she  often  is,  —  but  she  certainly  is  not 
nasty,  for  she  is  always  neat  and  clean.  And 
this  morning  I  heard  you  say  that  you  did  not 
want  '  that  nasty  bread  and  milk.'  The  bread 
and  milk  was  quite  good  and  sweet,  and  not 
at  all  nasty ;  but  you  called  it  so  because  you 
did  not  fancy  it." 

"  Then  did  I  tell  a  wicked  story  ? "  asked 
Bessie,  looking  sober  at  the  thought  of  having 
said  what  was  not  true. 

"No,"  said  papa,  "you  did  not  tell  a  wick- 
ed story,  for  you  did  not  mean  to  say  that 
which  was  not  so.     But  it  is  wrong  to  fall  into 


Uncle   John.  205 

the  habit  of  using  words  which  seem  to  say  so 
much  more  than  we  mean.  But  do  not  look 
so  grave  about  it,  my  darling ;  you  did  not  in- 
tend to  do  anything  that  was  not  right,  I  am 
sure."  "" 

"  But,  papa,"  said  Bessie,  "  why  did  God 
make  ugly  things  ?  " — 

"  Because  he  thought  it  best,  Bessie.  He 
made  everything  in  the  way  which  best  fit- 
ted it  for  the  purpose  for  which  he  intended 
it.  This  little  crab  lives  under  the  sea,  where 
he  has  a  great  many  enemies,  and  where  he 
has  to  find  his  food.  With  these  round,  star- 
ing eyes  which  stand  out  so  far  from  his  head, 
he  can  look  in  every  direction  and  see  if  any 
danger  is  near,  or  if  there  is  anything  which 
may  do  for  him  to  eat.  With  these  long,  awk- 
ward legs,  he  can  scamper  out  of  the  way,  and 
with  those  sharp  claws,  he  fights,  for  he  is  a 
quarrelsome  little  fellow.  He  can  give  a  good 
pinch  with  them,  and  you  had  better  not  put 
your  fingers  too  near  them.  Under  that  hard, 
black  shell,  he  has  a  tender  body,  which  would 


206  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

be  hurt  by  the  rocks  and  stones  among  which 
he  lives,  if  he  had  not  something  to  protect  it." 

Uncle  John  took  up  a  stick.  "  Here,  John- 
ny Crab,"  he  said,  "  let  us  see  how  you  can 
fight ; "  and  he  put  the  stick  in  the  water  and 
stirred  up  the  crab.  The  moment  he  was 
touched,  the  crab  began  to  move  all  his  legs, 
and  to  scuttle  round  the  pool  as  if  he  wanted 
to  get  out.  But  Uncle  John  did  not  mean  to 
let  him  come  out  until  he  had  shown  Bessie 
what  a  nip  he  could  give  with  those  pincers  of 
his.  He  pushed  him  back,  and  put  the  stick 
close  to  one  of  his  larger  claws.  The  crab 
took  hold  of  it,  as  if  he  were  very  angry,  and 
such  a  pinch  as  he  gave  it ! 

"  See  there,  Bessie,"  said  Uncle  John,  "  are 
you  not  glad  it  is  not  one  of  your  little  fingers 
he  has  hold  of?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  climbing  on  her  father's 
knee  as  the  crab  tried  to  get  out.  "  I  didn't 
know  he  could  pinch  like  that." 

"  Or  you  would  not  have  sat  so  quietly 
watching  him,  eh,  Bessie  ? "  said  Uncle  John. 


Uncle   John.  207 

u  Well,  romp," — to  Maggie,  as  she  rushed  up 
to  them,  rosy  and  out  of  breath,  and  jumping 
upon  the  rock  behind  him,  threw  both  arms 
around  his  neck,  —  "  well,  romp,  here  is  a  gen- 
tleman who  wishes  to  make  your  acquaint- 
ance." 

"  Why,  Uncle  John,  what  a  horrid,  nasty 
thing  !  What  is  it  ?  "  said  Maggie,  as  her  uncle 
pushed  back  the  crab,  which  was  still  trying  to 
get  out  of  the  pool. 

"  There  it  goes  again,"  said  Uncle  John, 
—  "  horrid,  nasty  thing !     Poor  little  crab  !  " 

"  Maggie,"  said  Bessie,  "  we  must  not  say 
'  nasty.'  Papa  says  it  means  what  we  do  not 
mean,  and  it's  improper.  Tell  her  about  it, 
papa." 

"  No,"  said  papa,  "  we  will  not  have  another 
lecture  now.  By  and  by  you  may  tell  her.  I 
think  you  can  remember  all  I  have  said." 

"  Now  see,  Maggie,"  said  Uncle  John,  "  you 
have  hurt  the  crab's  feelings  so  that  he  is  in  a 
great  hurry  to  run  off  home.  1  am  sure  his 
mother  thinks  him  a  very  handsome  fellow, 


2o8  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

and  he  wants  to  go  and  tell  her  how  he  went 
on  his  travels  and  met  a  monster  who  had  the 
bad  taste  to  call  him  '  a  horrid,  nasty  thing.' " 

"  Oh,"  said  Bessie,  laughing,  "  what  a  funny 
Uncle  John  you  are !  But  I  should  think  it 
would  hurt  the  crab's  feelings  a  great  deal 
more  to  be  poked  with  a  stick,  and  not  to  be 
let  to  go  home  when  he  wants  to.  I  don't  be- 
lieve he  knows  what  Maggie  says." 

"  I  think  you  are  about  right,  Bessie ;  I 
guess  we  must  let  him  go." 

So  the  next  time  the  crab  tried  to  come  out 
of  the  pool,  Uncle  John  put  the  stick  by  his 
claw,  and  when  he  took  hold  of  it,  lifted  him 
out  of  the  water  and  laid  him  on  the  sand. 
Away  the  crab  scampered  as  fast  as  his  long 
legs  could  carry  him,  moving  in  a  curious  side- 
long fashion,  which  amused  the  children  very 
much.  They  followed  him  as  near  to  the  wa- 
ter's edge  as  they  were  allowed  to  go,  and  then 
ran  back  to  their  father. 


XVI. 

THE  BIRTHDA  Y  PRESENTS. 

HE  tenth  of  August  was  Maggie's 
birthday.  She  would  be  seven  years 
old,  and  on  that  day  she  was  to  have 
a  party.  At  first,  Mrs.  Bradford  had  intended 
to  have  only  twenty  little  children  at  this  party, 
but  there  seemed  some  good  reason  for  invit- 
ing this  one  and  that  one,  until  it  was  found 
that  there  were  about  thirty  to  come. 

Maggie  begged  that  she  might  print  her  own 
invitations  on  some  of  the  paper  which  Grand- 
papa Duncan  had  sent.  Mamma  said  she 
might  try,  but  she  thought  Maggie  would  be 
tired  before  she  was  half  through,  and  she  was 
right.  By  the  time  Maggie  had  printed  four 
notes,  her  little  fingers  wore  cramped,  and  she 
had  to  ask  her  mother  to  write  the  rest  for  her. 
Mrs.  Bradford  did  so,  putting  Maggie's  own 
words  on  Maggie's  and  Bessie's  own  stamped 
14 


210  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

paper.  Maggie  said  this  was  Bessie's  party 
just  as  much  as  hers,  and  the  invitations  must 
come  from  her  too.  too  they  were  written  in 
this  way  * 

"  Please  to  have  the  pleasure  of  coming  to 
nave  a  party  with  us,  on  Tuesday  afternoon, 
at  four  o'clock. 

"  Maggie  and  Bessie." 

Among  those  which  Maggie  had  printed  her- 
self, was  one  to  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush. 

"  What  do  you  send  them  an  invitation 
for?"  said  Fred.  "They  wont  come.  The 
colonel  can't  walk  so  far,  and  Mrs.  Rush  wont 
leave  him." 

"  Then  they  can  send  us  a  refuse"  said 
Maggie.  "  I  know  the  colonel  can't  come, 
but  maybe  Mrs.  Rush  will  for  a  little  while. 
We're  going  to  ask  them,  anyhow.  They'll 
think  it  a  great  discompliment  if  we  don't." 

Such  busy  little  gills  as  they  were  on  the 
day  before  the  birthday  !  The  dolls  had  to  be 
all  dressed   in  their  best,  and  the  dolls'  tea 


The  Birthday  Presents.  211 

things  washed  about  a  dozen  times  in  the 
course  of  the  morning.  Then  Bessie  had  a 
birthday  present  for  Maggie.  She  had  been 
saving  all  her  money  for  some  time  to  buy  it. 
Papa  had  bought  it  for  her,  and  brought  it 
from  town  the  night  before.  Every  half-hour 
or  so,  Bessie  had  to  run  and  peep  at  it,  to  be 
sure  it  was  all  safe,  taking  great  care  that 
Maggie  did  not  see. 

They  went  to  bed  early,  that,  as  Maggie 
said,  "  to-morrow  might  come  soon,"  but  they 
lay  awake  laughing  and  talking  until  nurse 
told  them  it  was  long  past  their  usual  bed 
time,  and  they  must  go  right  to  sleep. 

The  next  morning  Bessie  was  the  first  to 
wake.  She  knew  by  the  light  that  it  was  very 
early,  not  time  to  get  up.  She  looked  at  her 
sister,  but  Maggie  showed  no  signs  of  waking. 

"  Oh,  this  is  Maggie's  birthday  !  "  said  the 
little  girl  to  herself.  "  My  dear  Maggie !  I 
wish  she  would  wake  up,  so  I  could  kiss  her 
and  wish  her  a  happy  birthday.  '  Many  happy 
yeturns,'  that's  what  people  say  when    other 


212  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

people  have  birthdays.  I'll  say  it  to  Maggie 
when  she  wakes  up.  But  now  I'll  go  to  sleep 
again  for  a  little  while." 

Bessie  turned  over  for  another  nap,  when 
her  eye  was  caught  by  something  on  the  foot 
of  the  bed.  She  raised  her  head,  then  sat 
upright.  No  more  thought  of  sleep  for  Bes- 
sie. She  looked  one  moment,  then  laid  her 
hand  upon  her  sleeping  sister. 

"  Maggie,  dear  Maggie,  wake  up !  Just  see 
what  somebody  brought  here  !  " 

Maggie  stirred,  and  sleepily  rubbed  her 
eyes. 

"  Wake  up  wide,  Maggie !  Only  look ! 
Did  you  ever  see  such  a  thing  ? " 

Maggie  opened  her  eyes,  and  sat  up  beside 
Bessie.  On  the  foot  of  the  bed  —  one  on  Mag- 
gie's side,  one  on  Bessie's  —  were  two  boxes. 
On  each  sat  a  large  doll  —  and  such  dolls ! 
They  had  beautiful  faces,  waxen  hands  and 
feet,  and  what  Bessie  called  "  live  hair,  yeal 
live  hair."  They  were  dressed  in  little  white 
night-gowns,   and    sat    there   before   the  sur- 


The  Birthday  Presents.  213 

prised  and  delighted  children  as  if  they  had 
themselves  just  wakened  from  sleep.  Mag- 
gie threw  off  the  bed-covers,  scrambled  down 
to  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  seized  the  doll  near- 
est to  her. 

"  Who  did  it,  Bessie  ?  "  she  said. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Bessie.  "  Mamma,  I 
guess.     I  think  they're  for  your  birthday." 

"Why,  so  I  s'pose  it  is!  "said  Maggie. 
"  Why  don't  you  come  and  take  yours,  Bes- 
sie ?  " 

"  But  it  is  not  my  birthday,"  said  Bessie, 
creeping  down  to  where  her  sister  sat.  "  I 
don't  believe  somebody  gave  me  one  ;  but  you 
will  let  me  play  with  one ;  wont  you,  Mag- 
gie ? " 

"  Bessie,  if  anybody  did  be  so  foolish  as  to 
give  me  two  such  beautiful  dolls,  do  you  think 
I'd  keep  them  botli  myself,  and  not  give  you 
one  ?  Indeed,  I  wouldn't.  And  even  if  they 
only  gave  me  one,  I'd  let  it  be  half  yours, 
Bessie." 

Bessie  put  her  arm  about  her  sister's  neck 


214  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

and  kissed  her,  and    then  took  up  the  othel 
doll. 

"  What  cunning  little  ni'-gowns  !  "  she  said. 
"  I  wonder  if  they  have  any  day  clo's." 

"  Maybe  they're  in  these  boxes,"  said  Mag- 
gie. "  I'm  going  to  look.  Gracie  Howard's 
aunt  did  a  very  unkind,  selfish  thing.  She 
gave  her  a  great  big  doll  with  not  a  thing  to 
put  on  it.  I  don't  believe  anybody  would  do 
so  to  us.  Oh,  no  !  here's  lots  and  lots  of  clo's  ! 
Pull  off  your  cover  quick,  Bessie.  Oh,  I  am 
so  very,  very  pleased  !  I  know  mamma  did  it. 
I  don't  believe  anybody  else  would  be  so  kind. 
See,  there's  a  white  frock  and  a  silk  frock  and 
a  muslin  one,  and  —  oh  !  goody,  goody  !  —  a 
sweet  little  sack  and  a  round  hat,  and  petti- 
coats and  drawers  and  everything !  Why 
don't  you  look  at  yours,  Bessie,  and  see  if 
they  are  just  the  same  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Bessie  ;  "they  are,  and  here's 
shoes  and  stockings,  and  oh  !  such  a  cunning 
parasol,  and  here's  —  oh,  Maggie,  here's  the 
dear   little   cap   that   I   saw   in    Mrs.  Yush'a 


The  Birthday  Presents.  215 

drawer   the  day  the  colonel  sent  me  to  find 
his  knife  !     Why,  she  must  have  done  it !  " 

"  And  look  here,  Bessie,  at  this  dear  little 
petticoat  all  'broidered.  That's  the  very  pat- 
tern we  saw  Aunt  Annie  working  the  day 
that  'bomnable  Miss  Adams  pulled  your  hair. 
Isn't  it  pretty  ?  " 

"  And  see,  Maggie  !  Mrs.  Yush  was  sewing 
on  a  piece  of  silk  just  like  this  dear  little 
dress,  and  she  wouldn't  tell  us  what  it  was. 
I  do  believe  she  did  it,  and  Aunt  Annie  and 
maybe  the  colonel." 

"  How  could  the  colonel  make  dolls' 
clothes  ?  "  said  Maggie.      "  Men  can't   sew." 

"  Soldier  men  can,"  said  Bessie.  "  Don't 
you  yemember  how  Colonel  Yush  told  us  he 
had  to  sew  on  his  buttons  ?  But  I  did  not  mean 
he  made  the  dolly's  clothes,  only  maybe  he 
gave  us  the  dolls,  and  Mrs.  Yush  and  Aunt 
Annie  made  their  things.  Oh,  here's  an- 
otber    ni'-gown,  —  two  ni'-gowns!" 

"Yes,"  said  Maggie.  "  I  was  counting, 
and  there's  two  ni'-gowns,  and  two  chemise, 


216  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

and  two  everything,  except  only  dresses,  and 
there's  four  of  those,  and  they're  all  marked 
like  our  things,  —  'Bessie,'  for  yours,  and 
'  Maggie  '  for  mine.  Oh,  what  a  happy  birth- 
day !  Bessie,  I'm  so  glad  you've  got  a  doll 
too  !     Oh,  I'm  so  very  gratified  !  " 

"  I  have  something  nice  for  you  too,  Mag- 
gie. Please  give  me  my  slippers,  and  I'll  go 
and  get  it." 

Maggie  leaned  over  the  side  of  the  trundle- 
bed,  to  reach  her  sister's  slippers,  but  what 
she  saw  there  quite  made  her  forget  them. 
She  gave  a  little  scream  of  pleasure,  and  be- 
gan hugging  up  her  knees  and  rolling  about 
the  bed  squealing  with  delight.  Bessie  crept 
to  the  edge  of  the  bed,  and  peeped  over. 
There  stood  two  little  perambulators,  just  of 
the  right  size  for  the  new  dolls,  and  in  each, 
lay  neatly  folded,  a  tiny  affghan. 

When  this  new  excitement  was  over,  Bes- 
sie put  on  her  slippers  and  went  for  her  pres- 
ent for  Maggie.  This  was  a  little  brown  mo- 
rocco  work-bag,   lined    with    blue   silk,    and 


The  Birthday  Presents.  2i*j 

fitted  up  with  scissors,  thimble,  bodkin,  and 
several  other  things.  She  gave  it  to  her  sister 
saying,  "  I  make  you  many  happy  yeturns, 
dear  Maggie."  Then  Maggie  had  another  fit 
of  rolling,  tumbling,  and  screaming,  until 
nurse,  who  was  watching  the  children  from 
her  bed,  though  they  did  not  know  it,  could 
stand  it  no  longer,  but  broke  into  a  hearty 
laugh. 

"  Now,  nursey,"  said  Maggie. 

"  Is  it  a  pig  or  a  puppy  we  have  got  here 
for  a  birthday  ? "  said  nurse.  "  Sure,  it  is  a 
happy  one  I  wish  you,  my  pet,  and  many  of 
'em,  and  may  you  never  want  for  nothing 
more  than  you  do  now.  Now  don't  you  make 
such  a  noise  there,  and  wake  Franky.  I 
s'pose  I  may  just  as  well  get  up  and  wash  and 
dress  you,  for  there'll  be  no  more  sleep,  I'm 
thinking." 

"  Who  gave  us  these  dolls  and  all  these 
things,  nursey  ?  "  asked  Maggie. 

"  Indeed,  then,  Bessie  was  just  right,"  said 
nurse.     "Colonel   Rush   gave  you  the  dolls, 


218  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

and  his  wife,  with  Miss  Annie,  made  the 
clothes ;  and  did  you  ever  see  dolls  that  had 
such  a  fittin'  out  ?  It  was  your  mamma  that 
bought  the  wagons  and  made  the  blankets." 

"  We  didn't  see  her,"  said  Bessie. 

"  No,  but  she  did  them  when  you  were  out 
or  asleep ;  but  you  see  Mrs.  Rush  and  Miss 
Annie  had  to  be  working  all  the  time  on 
the  clothes,  lest  they  wouldn't  be  done ;  and 
you're  round  there  so  much,  they  had  to  let 
you  see." 

"  But  we  never  knew,"  said  Maggie. 

The  children  could  scarcely  keep  still 
long  enough  to  let  nurse  bathe  and  dress 
them  ;  but  at  last  it  was  done,  and  then  the 
dolls  were  dressed,  and  the  rest  of  the  clothes 
put  nicely  away  in  the  boxes.  As  soon  as 
baby  awoke,  they  were  off  to  their  mamma's 
room,  scrambling  up  on  the  bed  to  show  their 
treasures,  and  talking  as  fast  as  their  tongues 
could   cm. 

"I  was  so  very  surprised,  mamma!"  said 
Maggie. 


The  Birthday  Presents.  219 

"  You  were  not ;  were  you,  Bessie  ?  "  said 
mamma,  laughing. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  was." 

"  Didn't  you  see  or  hear  something  last 
night  ?  "  asked  mamma. 

Bessie  looked  at  her  mother  for  a  minute, 
and  then  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  yes,  I  do  yemem- 
ber,  now !  Maggie,  last  night  I  woke  up  and 
somebody  was  laughing,  and  I  thought  it  was 
Aunt  Annie  ;  but  when  I  opened  my  eyes, 
only  mamma  was  there,  and  when  I  asked  her 
where  Aunt  Annie  was,  she  said,  '  Go  to 
sleep ;  you  shall  see  Aunt  Annie  in  the  morn- 
ing.' Mamma,  I  thought  you  came  to  kiss 
us,  as  you  do  every  night  before  you  go  to  bed. 
I  suppose  you  put  the  dulls  there  that  time  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  That's  what  I  call  being  mysteyious"  said 
Bessie. 

"  Do  you  like  people  to  be  mysterious,  Bes- 
sie ?  "  asked  her  father,  laughing. 

"  About  dulls,  1  do,  papa  ;  but  about  soma 
things,  I  don't." 


220  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  What  things  ?  " 

"  "When  they're  going  to  say  what  they  don't 
want  me  to  hear,  and  they  send  me  out  of  the 
yoom.  I  don't  like  that  way  of  being  myste- 
yious  at  all.  It  hurts  children's  feelings  very 
much  to  be  sent  out  of  the  yoom." 

"  What  are  these  magnificent  young  ladies 
to  be  named  ? "  asked  Uncle  John,  at  the 
breakfast-table. 

"  Mine  is  to  be  Bessie  Margaret  Marion," 
said  Maggie,  —  "  after  mamma  and  Bessie  and 
Mrs.  Rush." 

"  Why,  all  your  dolls  are  named  Bessie," 
said  Harry  ;  "  there  are  big  Bessie  and  little 
Bessie  and  middling   Bessie." 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  this  is  going 
to  be  Bessie  too.  She  will  have  two  other 
names,  so  it  will  be  very  nice.  Besides,  I  am 
not  going  to  play  with  middling  Bessie  again. 
The  paint  is  all  off  her  cheeks,  and  Franky 
smashed  her  nose  in,  and  yesterday  I  picked 
out  her  eyes,  to  see  what  made  them  open  and 
shut,  so  she  is  not  very  pretty  any  more  I 
am  going  to  let  Susie  have  her." 


The  Birthday  Presents.  221 

"  And  what  is  yours  to  be,  Bessie  ?  " 

"  Margayet  Colonel  Hoyace  Yush  Byad- 
ford,"  said  Bessie,  trying  very  hard  to  pro- 
nounce her  r's. 

The  boys  shouted  and  even  the  grown 
people  laughed. 

"  That  is  a  regular  boy's  name,  —  all  except 
the  Margaret,"  said  Fred,  "  and  the  Colonel  is 
no  name  at  all." 

"  It  is,"  said  Bessie,  —  "  it  is  my  own  dear 
soldier's,  and  it  is  going  to  be  my  dolly's. 
You're  bad  to  laugh  at  it,  Fred." 

"  Do  not  be  vexed,  my  little  girl,"  said  her 
father.  "  Colonel  is  not  a  name  ;  it  is  only  a 
title  given  to  a  man  because  he  commands  a 
regiment  of  soldiers.  Now  young  ladies  do 
not  command  regiments,  and  Horace  is  a 
man's  name.  You  may  call  your  doll  what 
you  please,  but  suppose  you  were  to  name  her 
Horatia  ;  would  not  that  sound  better  ?  " 

But  Bessie  held  fast  to  the  Horace  ;  it  was 
her  soldier's  name,  and  she  was  quite  deter- 
mined to  give  her  doll  the  same. 


222  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

After  breakfast,  Mrs.  Bradford  called  Mag- 
gie up  stairs  for  a  while.  "  Maggie,  dear," 
she  said,  when  she  had  taken  the  little  girl  up 
into  her  lap,  "  have  you  remembered  this 
morning  that  our  Father  in  heaven  has 
brought  you  to  the  beginning  of  another  year 
of  your  life  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  mamma,"  said  Maggie;  "I  have 
done  nothing  but  think  it  was  my  birthday 
ever  since  I  woke  up.  You  know  I  could  not 
forget  it  when  every  one  was  so  kind  and  gave 
me  such  lots  and  lots  of  lovely  things." 

"  But  have  you  remembered  to  thank  God  for 
letting  you  see  another  birthday,  and  for  giv- 
ing you  all  these  kind  friends,  and  so  many 
other  blessings  ?  And  have  you  asked  him  to 
make  you  wiser  and  better  each  year,  as  you 
grow  older  ? " 

"  I  am  afraid  I  did  not  think  much  about  it 
that  way,"  said  Maggie,  coloring;  "but  I  am 
very  thankful.  I  know  I  have  a  great  many 
blessings.  I  have  you  and  papa  and  Bessie, 
and  my  new  doll,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  fam 


The  Birthday  Presents.  223 

ily.  But  I  want  to  know  one  thing,  mamma. 
Isn't  it  wrong  to  pray  to  God  about  dolls  ? 
Bessie  said  it  wasn't,  but  I  thought  it  must 
be." 

"  How  to  pray  about  them,  dear  ?  " 
"  To  thank  God  because  he  made  Colonel 
Rush  think  of  giving  us  such  beautiful  ones. 
Bessie  said  we  ought  to,  but  I  thought  God 
would  not  care  to  hear  about  such  little  things 
as  that.  Bessie  said  we  asked  every  day  for 
our  daily  bread  ;  and  dolls  were  a  great  deal 
better  blessing  than  bread,  so  we  ought  to 
thank  him.  But  I  thought  lie  was  such  a 
great  God,  maybe  he  would  be  offended  if  I 
thanked  him  for  such  a  little  thing  as  a  doll." 
"  We  should  thank  him  for  every  blessing, 
dear,  great  and  small.  Though  wc  deserve 
nothing  at  his  hands,  all  that  we  have  comes 
from  his  love  and  mercy  ;  and  these  are  so 
great  that  even  our  smallest  wants  are  not 
beneath  his  notice.  lie  knows  all  our  wishes 
and  feelings,  —  every  thought,  whether  spoken 
or  not ;  and  if  you  feel  grateful  to  him  because 


224  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

he  put  it  into  the  hearts  of  your  kind  friends 
to  give  you  this  pretty  present,  he  knew  the 
thought,  and  was  pleased  that  you  should  feel 
so.  But  never  fear  to  thank  him  for  any  mer- 
cy, however  small.  Never  fear  to  go  to  him 
in  any  trouble  or  happiness.  He  is  always 
ready  to  listen  to  the  simplest  prayer  from  the 
youngest  child.  Shall  we  thank  him  now  for 
all  the  gifts  and  mercies  you  have  received  to- 
day, and  for  the  care  which  he  has  taken  of 
you  during  the  past  year  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mamma." 

"  And,  Maggie,  I  think  you  have  one  espe 
cial  blessing  to  be  grateful  for." 

"  What,  mamma  ?  " 

"  That  you  have  been  able,  with  God's  help, 
to  do  so  much  towards  conquering  a  very  trou- 
blesome fault." 

"  Oh,  yes,  mamma  !  and  I  do  think  God  help- 
ed me  to  do  that,  for  I  asked  him  every  night 
and  morning,  since  I  meddled  with  papa's 
inkstand.  I  mean,  when  I  said,  '  God  bless,' 
when  I  came  to  '  make  me. a  good  little  girl,'  I 


The  Birthday  Presents.  225 

used  to  say  quite  quick  and  softly  to  myself, 
'  and  careful  too.'  " 

"  That  was  right,  dear,''  said  Mrs.  Bradford, 
tenderly  smoothing  Maggie's  curls,  and  kissing 
her  forehead  ;  "  you  see  he  did  hear  that  little 
prayer,  and  help  you  in  what  you  were  trying 
to  do." 

Then  Mrs.  Bradford  knelt  down  with  Mag- 
gie, and  thanked  God  that  he  had  spared  her 
child's  life,  and  given  her  so  many  blessings, 
and  prayed  that  each  year,  as  she  grew  older, 
she  might  be  better  and  wiser,  and  live  more 
to  his  glory  and  praise. 

"  I  am  not  quite  careful  yet,  mamma,"  said 
Maggie,  when  they  rose  from  their  knees. 
"You  know  the  other  day,  when  nurse  told 
me  to  bring  in  Bessie's  best  hat,  I  forgot  and 
left  it  out  on  the  grass,  and  the  rain  spoiled  it ; 
but  I  mean  to  try  more  and  more,  and  maybe, 
when  I  am  eight,  I  will  be  as  careful  as  Bes- 
sie." 

is 


XVII. 

THE  BIRTH  DAT  PARTI". 

AGGIE  said  this  was  the  very  best 
birthday  she  had  ever  had.  The 
whole  day  seemed  one  long  pleasure. 
She  and  Bessie  walked  over,  with  their  father 
and  Uncle  John,  to  see  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush, 
leaving  mamma,  Aunt  Helen,  and  Aunt  Annie 
all  helping  Mrs.  Jones  to  prepare  for  the  even- 
ing. There  were  cakes  and  ice  cream  and 
jelly  to  make,  for  such  things  could  not  be 
bought  here  in  the  country  as  they  could  in 
town. 

The  new  dolls  went  too,  seated  in  the  per- 
ambulators and  snugly  tucked  in  with  the 
affghans,  though  it  was  such  a  warm  day  that 
when  they  reached  the  hotel,  Bessie  said  she 
was  "  yoasted." 

"  So  this  is  a  pleasant  birthday ;  is  it,  Mag- 
gie ?  "  said  the  colonel. 


The  Birthday  Party.  227 

"Oh,  yes  !  "  said  Maggie  ;  "  I  wish  every 
day  was  rny  birthday  or  Bessie's." 

"  Then  in  sixty  days  you  would  be  old  la- 
dies. How  would  you  like  that  ?  "  said  Uncle 
John. 

"  Not  a  bit,"  answered  Maggie  ;  "  old  ladies 
don't  have  half  so  much  fun  as  children." 

"  So  you  will  be  content  with  one  birthday 
in  a  year  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Uncle  John." 

"  And  you  liked  all  your  presents,  Mag- 
gie ?  "  asked  the  colonel. 

"  Yes,  sir,  except  only  one." 

"  And  what  was  that  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Jones  gave  me  a  white  Canting  flan- 
nel rabbit,  with  black  silk  for  its  nose,  and  red 
beads  for  its  eyes.  Idea  of  it !  just  as  if  I  was 
a  little  girl,  and  I  am  seven  !  I  told  nurse  if 
baby  wanted  it,  she  could  have  it ;  and  I  didn't 
care  if  she  did  put  it  in  her  month.  Nurse 
said  I  was  ungrateful  ;  but  I  am  not  going  to 
be  grateful  for  such  a  thing  as  that." 

The  colonel   and   Uncle  John  seemed  very 


228  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

much  amused  when  Maggie  said  this,  but  her 
father  looked  rather  grave,  though  he  said 
nothing. 

"  Colonel  Yush,"  said  Bessie,  "  you  didn't 
send  me  a  yefuse." 

"  A  what  ?  " 

"  A  yefuse  to  our  party  note." 

"  Oh,  I  understand.  Did  you  want  me  to 
refuse  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  we  didn't  want  you  to ;  but  then 
we  knew  you  couldn't  come,  because  you  are 
so  lame." 

"  Will  it  do  if  you  get  an  answer  to-night  ?  " 
said  the  colonel. 

Bessie  said  that  would  do  very  well. 

When  they  were  going  home,  Mr.  Bradford 
fell  a  little  behind  the  rest,  and  called  Maggie 
to  him.  "Maggie,  dear,"  he  said,  "I  do  not 
want  to  find  fault  with  my  little  girl  on  her 
birthday,  but  I  do  not  think  you  feel  very 
pleasantly  towards  Mrs.  Jones." 

"  No,  papa,  I  do  not ;  I  can't  bear  her ;  and 
the    maKe-believe   rabbit    too !     If  you  were 


The  Birthday  Party.  229 

seven,  papa,  and  some  one  gave  you  such  a 
thing,  would  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  Mrs.  Jones  is  a  poor 
woman,  and  she  gave  you  the  best  she  had, 
thinking  to  please  you." 

"  Papa,  it  makes  Mrs.  Jones  very  mad  to 
call  her  poor.  The  other  day  I  asked  her  why 
she  didn't  put  pretty  white  frocks,  like  our 
baby's  and  Nellie's,  on  Susie.  Bessie  said  she 
supposed  she  was  too  poor.  Mrs.  Jones  was 
as  cross  as  anything,  and  said  she  wasn't  poor, 
and  Mr.  Jones  was  as  well  off  as  any  man  this 
side  the  country ;  but  she  wasn't  going  to 
waste  her  time  doing  up  white  frocks  for  Susie. 
She  was  so  mad  that  Bessie  and  I  ran  away." 

"  Then  we  will  not  call  her  poor  if  she  does 
not  like  it,"  said  Mr.  Bradford  ;  "  but  Mrs. 
Jones  is  a  kind-hearted  woman,  if  she  is  a  lit- 
tle rough  sometimes.  She  tries  very  hard  to 
please  you.  Late  last  night,  I  went  into  her 
kitchen  to  speak  to  Mr.  Jones,  and  there  she 
sat  making  that  rabbit,  although  she  had  been 
hard  at  work  all  day,  trying  to  finish  her  wash, 


230  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

so  that  she  might  have  the  whole  of  to-day  to 
make  cakes  and  other  nice  things  for  your 
party.  Yet  this  morning  when  she  brought  it 
to  you,  you  did  not  look  at  all  pleased,  and 
scarcely  said,  '  Thank  you.'  " 

"Ought  I  to  say  I  was  pleased  when  I  was 
not,  papa  ?  " 

"  No,  certainly  not ;  but  you  should  have 
been  pleased,  because  she  meant  to  be  kind, 
even  if  you  did  not  like  the  thing  that  she 
brought.  It  was  not  like  a  lady,  it  was  not 
like  a  Christian,  to  be  so  ungracious;  it  was 
not  doing  as  you  would  be  done  by.  Last 
week  you  hemmed  a  handkerchief  for  Grand- 
papa Duncan.  Now  you  know  yourself  that, 
although  you  took  a  great  deal  of  pains,  the 
hem  was  rather  crooked  and  some  of  the 
stitches  quite  long,  yet  grandpapa  was  more 
pleased  with  that  one  than  with  the  whole 
dozen  which  Aunt  Helen  hemmed,  and  which 
were  beautifully  done,  because  he  knew  that 
you  had  done  the  best  you  could,  and  that  it 
was  a  great  effort  for  you.     It  was  not  the 


The  Birthday  Party.  231 

work,  but  the  wish  to  do  something  for  him, 
that  pleased  him.  Now,  if  grandpa  had 
frowned,  and  looked  at  the  handkerchief  as 
if  it  were  scarcely  worth  notice,  and  grumbled 
something  that  hardly  sounded  like  '  Thank 
yon,'  how  would  you  have  felt  ?  " 

"  I'd  have  cried,"  said  Maggie,  "  and  wished 
I  hadn't  done  it  for  him." 

"  Suppose  he  had  told  other  people  that  he 
didn't  like  work  done  in  that  way,  and  was 
not  going  to  be  grateful  for  it  'I " 

Maggie  hung  her  head,  and  looked  ashamed. 
She  saw  now  how  unkindly  she  had  felt  and 
acted  towards  Mrs.  Jones. 

Mr.  Bradford  went  on  :  "  I  think  Mrs.  Jones 
was  hurt  this  morning,  Maggie.  Now,  I  am 
sure  you  did  not  mean  to  vex  her ;  did  you  ? " 

"No,  papa,  indeed,  I  did  not.  What  can  I 
do  ?  I  don't  think  I  ought  to  tell  Mrs.  Jones 
that  I  think  the  rabbit  is  pretty  when  I  don't." 

"No,  of  course  you  must  not.  Truth  be- 
fore all  things.  But  you  might  play  with  it  a 
little,  and  not  put  it  out  of  sight,  as  you  did 


232  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

this  morning.  Perhaps,  too.  you  may  find  a 
chance  to  thank  her  in  a  pleasanter  way  than 
you  did  before." 

"I'll  make  a  chance,"  said  Maggie. 

When  they  reached  the  house,  Maggie  ran 
up  to  the  nursery.  "  Nursey,"  she  said, 
"  where  is  my  rabbit ;  did  baby  have  it  ? " 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  nurse  ;  "  I  wasn't  going 
to  give  it  to  baby,  to  hurt  Mrs.  Jones'  feelings, — 
not  while  we're  here,  at  least.  When  we  go  to 
town,  then  my  pet  may  have  it,  if  you  don't 
want  it ;  and  a  nice  plaything  it  will  make  for 
her  then.     It's  up  there  on  the  mantel-shelf." 

"  Please  give  it  to  me,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  I'm 
going  to  cure  Mrs.  Jones'  feelings." 

Nurse  handed  it  to  her,  and  she  ran  down 
stairs  with  it.  She  took  her  doll  out  of  the 
little  wagon,  put  the  rabbit  in  its  place,  and 
tucked  the  affghan  all  round  it.  Then  she  ran 
into  the  kitchen,  pulling  the  wagon  after  her. 

"  Now,  come,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  the  moment 
she  saw  her,  "I  don't  want  any  children  here  ! 
I've  got  my  hands  full ;  just  be  off." 


The  Birthday  Party.  233 

"  Oh,  but,  Mrs.  Jones,"  said  Maggie,  a  little 
frightened,  "I  only  want  you  to  look  at  my 
rabbit  taking  a  ride  in  the  wagon.  Don't  he 
look  cunning  ?  I  think  you  were  very  kinc1 
to  make  him  for  me." 

"  Well,  do  you  know  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Jones 
"  I  declare  I  thought  you  didn't  care  nothing 
about  it,  —  and  me  sitting  up  late  last  night  to 
make  it.  I  was  a  little  put  out  when  you 
seemed  to  take  it  so  cool  like,  and  I  thought 
you  were  stuck  up  with  all  the  handsome 
presents  you'd  been  getting.  That  wasn't 
nothing  alongside  of  them,  to  be  sure ;  but  it 
was  the  best  I  could  do." 

"  And  you  were  very  kind  to  make  it  for 
me,  Mrs.  Jones.  I  am  very  much  obliged  to 
you.  No,  Susie,  you  can't  have  it.  Maybe 
you'd  make  it  dirty,  and  I'm  going  to  keep  it 
till  I'm  thirteen  ;  then  I'll  let  baby  have  it, 
when  she's  big  enough  to  take  care  of  it." 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  in  the  ash-barrel  long  before 
that,"  said  Mrs.  Jones.  "  Here's  a  cake  for 
you  and  one  for  Bessie." 


234  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  Maggie;  "mamma 
iaid  we  musn't  eat  any  cakes  or  candies  this 
morning,  because  we'll  want  some  to-night." 

"  That's  a  good  girl  to  mind  so  nice,"  said 
Mrs.  Jones  ;  "  and  your  ma's  a  real  lady,  and 
she's  bringing  you  up  to  be  ladies  too." 

Maggie  ran  off  to  the  parlor,  glad  that 
she  had  made  friends  with  Mrs.  Jones.  She 
found  her  mother  and  Aunt  Helen  and  Aunt 
Annie  all  making  mottoes.  They  had  sheets 
of  bright-colored  tissue  paper,  which  they  out 
into  small  squares,  fringed  the  ends  with 
sharp  scissors,  and  then  rolled  up  a  sugar- 
plum in  each.  They  allowed  Maggie  and 
Bessie  to  help,  by  handing  the  sugar-plums, 
and  the  little  girls  thought  it  a  very  pleasant 
business.  And  once  in  a  while  mamma  pop- 
ped a  sugar-plum  into  one  of  the  two  little 
mouths,  instead  of  wrapping  it  in  the  paper ; 
and  this  they  thought  a  capital  plan.  Then 
came  a  grand  frolic  in  the  barn  with  father 
and  Uncle  John  and  the  boys,  Tom  and  Wal- 
ter  being   of  the   party,   until   Mrs.   Bradford 


The  Birthday  Party.  235 

called  them  in,  and  said  Bessie  must  rest  a 
while,  or  she  would  be  quite  tired  out  before 
afternoon.  So,  taking  Bessie  on  his  knee, 
Grandpapa  Duncan  read  to  them  out  of  a 
new  book  he  had  given  Maggie  that  morning. 
After  the  early  dinner,  the  dolls,  old  and  new, 
had  to  be  dressed,  and  then  they  were  dressed 
themselves,  and  ready  for  their  little  visitors. 

The  piazza  and  small  garden  and  barn 
seemed  fairly  swarming  with  children  that 
afternoon.  And  such  happy  children  too ! 
Every  one  was  good-natured,  ready  to  please 
and  to  be  pleased.  And,  indeed,  they  would 
have  been  very  ungrateful  if  they  had  not 
been  ;  for  a  great  deal  of  pains  was  taken  to 
amuse  and  make  them  happy.  Even  Mamie 
Stone  was  not  heard  to  fret  once. 

"  I  do  wish  I  had  an  Uncle  John  !  "  said  Ma- 
mie, as  she  sat  down  to  rest  on  the  low  porch 
step,  with  Bessie  and  one  or  two  more  of  the 
smaller  children,  and  watched  Mr.  Duncan,  as 
lie  arranged  the  others  for  some  new  game, 
keeping  them  laughing  all  the  time  with  his 


236  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

merry  jokes,  —  "I  do  wish  I  had  an  Uncle 
John ! " 

"  You  have  an  Uncle  Robert,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Pooh  !  he's  no  good,"  said  Mamie.  ."  He's 
not  nice  and  kind  and  funny,  like  your  Un- 
cle John.  He's  as  cross  as  anything,  and  he 
wont  let  us  make  a  bit  of  noise  when  he's  in 
the  room.  He  says  children  are  pests  ;  and 
when  papa  laughed,  and  asked  him  if  he  said 
that  because  he  remembered  what  a  pest  he 
was  when  he  was  a  child,  he  looked  mad,  and 
said  no ;  children  were  better  behaved  when 
he  was  a  boy." 

"  I  don't  think  he's  very  better  behaved  to 
talk  so,"  said  Bessie,  gravely. 

"  No,  he's  not,"  said  Mamie.  "  He's  awful. 
He's  not  a  bit  like  Mr.  Duncan.  And  I  like 
your  Aunt  Annie  too.  She  plays  so  nice, 
just  as  if  she  were  a  little  girl  herself;  and  she 
helps  everybody  if  they  don't  know  how,  or 
fall  down,  or  anything." 

"  Are  we  not  having  a  real  nice  time,  Bes- 
sie ?  "  asked  Gracie  Howard. 


The  Bi?'thday  Party.  237 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  but  I  do  wish  rny  sol- 
dier and  Mrs.  Yush  could  come  to  our  party." 

"  What  makes  you  care  so  much  about 
Colonel  Rush  ?  "  asked  Gracie.  "  He's  such 
a  big  man." 

"  He  isn't  any  bigger  than  my  father,"  said 
Bessie ;  "  and  I  love  my  father  dearly,  dearly. 
We  can  love  people  just  as  much  if  they  are 
big." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that,"  said  Gracie  ;  "  I 
meant  he's  so  old.  You'd  have  to  love  your 
father,  even  if  you  didn't  want  to,  because  he 
is  your  father,  and  he  takes  care  of  you. 
But  Colonel  Rush  isn't  anything  of  yours." 

"  He  is,"  said  Bessie ;  "  he  is  my  own  sol- 
dier, and  my  great,  great  friend  ;  and  he  loves 
me  too." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Gracie.  "  Mamma  says 
it  is  strange  to  see  a  grown  man  so  fond  of  a 
little  child  who  doesn't  belong  to  him." 

"I  think  it  is  very  good  of  him  to  love  ma 
so  much,"  said  Bessie,  "  and  I  do  wish  he  was 
here.     I  want  him  very  much." 


238  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  And  so  do  I,"  said  Maggie,  who  had  come 
to  see  why  Bessie  was  not  playing ;  "  but  we 
can't  have  him,  'cause  he  can't  walk  up  this 
bank,  and  the  carriage  can't  come  here,  either. 
I  just  wish  there  wasn't  any  bank." 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Uncle 
John.  "  Here  is  the  queen  of  the  day  looking 
as  if  her  cup  of  happiness  was  not  quite  full. 
What  is  it,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  We  want  the  colonel,"  said  Maggie. 

"Why,  you  disconsolate  little  monkey! 
Are  there  not  enough  grown  people  here 
already,  making  children  of  themselves  for 
your  amusement,  but  you  must  want  the  colo- 
nel too  ?  If  he  was  here,  he  could  not  play 
with  you,  poor  fellow  !  " 

"  He  could  sit  still  and  look  at  us,"  said 
Maggie. 

"  And  we  could  look  at  him,"  said  Bessie. 
"We  are  very  fond  of  him,  Uncle  John." 

"  I  know  you  are,"  said  Uncle  John,  "  and 
so  you  should  be,  for  he  is  very  fond  of  you, 
and  does    enough  to  please   you.     But  I  am 


The  Birthday  Party.  239 

very  fond  of  you  too,  and  I  am  going  to  make 
a  fox  of  myself,  to  please  you.  So  all  hands 
must  come  for  a  game  of  fox  and  chickens 
before  supper." 

Away  they  all  went  to  join  the  game. 
Uncle  John  was  the  fox,  and  Mrs.  Bradford 
and  Aunt  Annie  the  hens,  and  Aunt  Helen 
and  papa  were  chickens  with  the  little  ones ; 
while  grandpa  and  grandma  and  Mrs.  Jones 
sat  on  the  piazza,  each  with  a  baby  on  her 
knee.  The  fox  was  such  a  nimble  fellow,  the 
mother  hens  had  hard  work  to  keep  their 
broods  together,  and  had  to  send  them  scatter- 
ing home  very  often.  It  was  a  grand  frolic, 
and  the  grown  people  enjoyed  it  almost  as 
much  as  the  children. 

Even  Toby  seemed  to  forget  himself  for  a 
moment  or  two ;  and  once,  when  the  chickens 
were  all  flying  over  the  grass,  screaming  and 
laughing,  he  sprang  up  from  his  post  on  the 
porch,  where  he  had  been  quietly  watching 
them,  and  came  hounding  down  among  them 
with  a  joyous  bark,  and  seized  hold  of  the  fox 


240  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

by  the  coat  tails,  just  as  he  pounced  on  Harry 
and  Walter,  as  if  lie  thought  they  had  need  of 
his  help.  How  the  children  laughed !  But 
after  that,  Toby  seemed  to  be  quite  ashamed 
of  himself,  and  walked  back  to  his  old  seat 
with  the  most  solemn  air  possible,  as  if  he 
meant  to  say,  — 

"  If  you  thought  it  was  this  respectable  dog 
who  was  playing  with  you  just  now,  you  were 
mistaken.  It  must  have  been  some  foolish  lit- 
tle puppy,  who  did  not  know  any  better." 
And  not  even  Bessie  could  coax  him  to  play 
any  more. 

But  at  last  fox,  hen,  and  chickens  were 
all  called  to  supper,  and  went  in  together  as 
peaceably  as  possible.  The  children  were  all 
placed  round  the  room,  some  of  them  on  the 
drollest  kind  of  seats,  which  Mr.  Jones  had 
contrived  for  the  occasion.  Almost  all  of 
them  were  so  low  that  every  child  could  hold 
its  plate  on  its  lap,  for  there  was  not  half 
room  enough  round  the  table. 

They  were  scarcely  arranged  when  a  curi- 


The  Birthday  Party.  241 

ous  sound  was  heard  outside,  like  a  tapping 
on  the  piazza. 

"  That  sounds  just  like  my  soldier's  crutch- 
es," said  Bessie.  "  But  then  it  couldn't  be, 
because  he  never  could  get  up  the  bank." 

But  it  seemed  that  the  colonel  could  get  up 
the  bank,  for  as  Bessie  said  this,  she  turned, 
and  there  he  stood  at  the  door,  with  Mrs. 
Rush  at  his  side,  both  looking  very  smiling. 

"  Oh,  it  is,  it  is!  "  said  Bessie,  her  whole  face 
full  of  delight.  "  Oh,  Maggie,  he  did  come ! 
he  did  get  up  !     Oh,  I'm  perferly  glad." 

And  indeed  she  seemed  so.  It  was  pretty 
to  see  her  as  she  stood  by  the  colonel,  looking 
up  at  him  with  her  eyes  so  full  of  love  and 
pleasure,  and  a  bright  color  in  her  cheeks ; 
while  Maggie,  almost  as  much  delighted,  ran 
to  the  heavy  arm-chair  in  which  Grandpapa 
Duncan  usually  sat,  and  began  tugging  and 
shoving  at  it  with  all  her  might. 

"  What  do  you  want  to  do,  Maggie  ?  "  asked 
Tom  Noras,  as  he  saw  her  red  in  the    face, 
and  all  out  of  breath. 
16 


242  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  I  want  to  take  it  to  the  door,  so  that  he 
need  not  walk  another  step.  Please  help  me, 
Tom,"  said  Maggie,  looking  at  the  colonel 
who  stood  leaning  on  his  crutches,  and  shak- 
ing hands  with  all  the  friends  who  were  so 
glad  to  see  him. 

"  Never  mind,  little  woman,"  said  he ;  "  I 
shall  reach  the  chair  with  far  less  trouble  than 
you  can  bring  it  to  me,  and  I  can  go  to  it  quite 
well.  I  could  not  have  come  up  this  bank  of 
yours,  if  I  had  not  been  '  nice  and  spry,'  as 
Mrs.  Jones  says.  I  told  you  you  should  have 
the  answer  to  your  invitation  to-night ;  did  I 
not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  but  why  didn't  you  tell  us  you 
were  coming?  " 

"  Because  I  did  not  know  myself  that  I 
should  be  able  to  when  the  time  came  ;  and  I 
was  vain  enough  to  think  you  and  Bessie 
would  be  disappointed  if  I  promised  and  did 
not  come  after  all.  I  knew  I  should  be  dis- 
appointed myself;  so  I  thought  I  would  say 
nothing  till  I  was  on  the  spot.     Would  you 


The  Birthday  Party.  243 

have  liked  it  better  if  I  had  sent  you  a  *  re- 
fuse '  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  sir !  "  said  Maggie.  "  How  can 
you  talk  so  ?  " 

"  You  gave  us  the  best  answer  in  the 
world,"  said  Bessie. 

Certainly  the  colonel  had  no  reason  to 
think  that  all,  both  old  and  young,  were  not 
glad  to  see  him.  As  for  Maggie,  she  could  not 
rest  until  she  had  done  something  for  him. 
As  soon  as  she  had  seen  him  seated  in  the 
great  chair,  she  rushed  off,  and  was  presently 
heard  coming  down  stairs  with  something 
thump,  thumping  after  her,  and  in  a  moment 
there  she  was  at  the  door  dragging  two  pil- 
lows, one  in  each  hand.  These  she  insisted 
on  squeezing  behind  the  colonel's  back,  and 
though  he  would  have  been  more  comfortable 
without  them,  he  allowed  her  to  do  it,  as  she 
bad  taken  so  much  trouble  to  bring  them,  and 
smiled  and  thanked  her ;  so  she  was  quite 
sure  she  had  made  him  perfectly  easy.  Nei- 
ther she  nor  Bessie  would  eat  anything  till  ho 


244  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

had  taken  or  refused  everything  that  was  on 
the  table,  and  he  said  he  was  fairly  in  the  way 
to  be  killed  with  kindness. 

After  supper  Fred  whispered  to  his  father, 
and  receiving  his  permission,  proposed  "  three 
cheers  for  Bessie's  soldier,  Colonel  Rush." 
The  three  cheers  were  given  with  a  hearty 
good-will,  and  the  room  rang  again  and  again. 

"  Three  cheers  for  all  our  soldiers,"  said 
Harry  ;  and  these  were  given. 

Then  Walter  Stone  cried,  "  Three  cheers 
for  our  Maggie,  the  queen  of  the  day,"  and 
again  all  the  boys  and  girls  shouted  at  the  top 
of  their  voices. 

But  Maggie  did  not  like  this  at  all.  She 
hung  her  head,  and  colored  all  over  face, 
neck,  and  shoulders,  then  calling  out  in  a 
vexed,  distressed  tone,  "  I  don't  care,"  ran  to 
her  mother,  and  buried  her  face  in  her  lap. 

"  Poor  Maggie  !  That  was  almost  too  much  , 
was  it  not  ? "  said  her  mother,  as  she  lifted 
her  up  and  seated  her  on  her  knee. 

"  Oh,  mamma,  it  was  dreadful !  "  said  Mag- 


The  Birthday  Party.  245 

gie,  almost  crying,  and  hiding  her  face  on  her 
mother's  shoulder.     "  How  could  they  ?  " 

"Never  mind,  dear;  they  only  did  it  out  of 
compliment  to  you,  and  they  thought  you 
would  he  pleased." 

"  But  I  am  not,  mamma.  I  would  rather 
have  a  discompliment." 

Maggie's  trouble  was  forgotten  when  Uncle 
John  jumped  up  and  began  a  droll  speech, 
which  made  all  the  children  laugh,  and  in  a 
few  moments  she  was  as  merry  as  ever  again. 

"So  this  has  been  a  happy  day?"  said  the 
colonel,  looking  down  at  Bessie,  who  was  sit- 
ting close  beside  him,  as  she  had  done  ever 
since  he  came  in. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Bessie ;  "  it  is  the  best 
birthday  we  have  ever  had." 

"  We  ?  "  said  the  colonel.  "  It  is  not  your 
birthday,  too  ;  is  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Bessie ;  "  but  that's  no  differ- 
ence. I  like  Maggie's  birthday  just  as  much 
as  mine,  only  1  like  hers  better,  'cause  I  can 
give  her  a  present." 


246  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Does  she  not  give  you  a  present  on  jour 
birthday?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  I  like  to  give  her  one  better 
than  to  have  her  give  me  one ;  and  it.  was 
such  a  great  part  of  the  happiness  'cause  you 
came  to-night." 

"  Bless  your  loving  little  heart ! "  said  the 
colonel,  looking  very  much  pleased. 

"  You  know,  even  if  you  did  not  give  me 
that  beautiful  doll,  it  would  be  'most  the  same ; 
for  Maggie  would  let  me  call  hers  half  mine ; 
but  I  am  very  glad  you  did  give  it  to  me.  Oh, 
I'm  very  satisfied  of  this  day." 

"  Wasn't  this  a  nice  day  ? "  Bessie  said  to 
her  sister,  when  their  little  friends  were  gone, 
and  they  were  snug  in  bed. 

"  Yes,  lovely,"  said  Maggie,  "  only  except 
the  boys  hollering  about  me.  I  never  heard 
of  such  a  thing,  —  to  go  and  holler  about  a 
girl,  and  make  her  feel  all  red !  I  think,  if  it 
wasn't  for  that,  I  wouldn't  know  what  to  do 
'cause  of  my  gladness." 


XYIII. 

THE  ADVENTURE. 

iHERE  was  a  dreadful  storm  that  week, 
which  lasted  several  days,  and  did  a 
great  deal  of  damage  along  the  coast. 
The  sky  was  black  and  angry  with  dark,  heavy 
clouds.  The  great  waves  of  the  ocean  rolled 
up  on  the  beach  with  a  loud,  deafening  roar, 
the  house  rocked  with  the  terrible  wind,  and 
the  rain  poured  in  such  torrents  that  Maggie 
asked  her  mother  if  she  did  not  think  "  the 
windows  of  heaven  were  opened,"  and  there 
was  to  be  another  flood. 

"  Maggie,"  said  her  mother,  "  when  Noah 
came  out  of  the  ark,  what  was  the  first  thing 
he  did  ?  " 

Maggie  thought  a  moment,  and  then  said, 
"  Built  an  altar  and  made  a  sacrifice." 

"  Yes  ;  and  what  did  the  Lord  say  to  him  ?  " 

"Well   done,  good    and   faithful  servant," 


248  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

said  Maggie,  who,  provided  she  had  an  an- 
swer, was  not  always  particular  it  was  the  right 
one. 

Mrs.  Bradford  smiled  a  little. 

"  We  are  not  told  the  Lord  said  that,"  she 
answered,  "  though  he  was  doubtless  pleased 
that  Noah's  first  act  should  have  been  one  of 
praise  and  thanksgiving.  Indeed,  the  Bible 
tells  us  as  much.  But  what  did  he  place  in 
the  clouds  for  Noah  to  see  ?  " 

"  A  rainbow,"  said  Maggie. 

"  What  did  he  tell  Noah  it  should  be  ?  " 

"  I  forgot  that,"  said  Maggie ;  "  he  said  it 
should  be  a  sign  that  the  world  should  never 
be  drowned  again." 

"  Yes ;  the  Lord  told  Noah  he  would  make 
a  covenant  with  him  '  that  the  waters  should 
no  more  become  a  flood  to  destroy  the  earth  ; ' 
and  he  made  the  rainbow  for  a  sign  that  his 
promise  should  stand  sure." 

"  I  am  glad  God  made  the  rainbow,  'cause 
it  is  so  pretty,"  said  Maggie ;  "  but  I  think 
Noah  might  have  believed  him  without  that, 
when  he  took  such  care  of  him  in  the  ark." 


The  Adventure.  249 

"  Probably  he  did ;  we  are  not  told  that 
Noah  did  not  believe,  and  it  was  of  his  own 
great  goodness  and  mercy  that  the  Almighty 
gave  to  Noah,  and  all  who  should  live  after 
him,  this  beautiful  token  of  his  love  and  care. 
But  if  my  little  girl  could  have  believed  God's 
promise  then,  why  can  she  not  do  so  now  ? 
His  word  holds  good  as  surely  in  these  days 
as  in  those  of  Noah." 

"  So  I  do,  mamma,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  I  forgot 
about  the  rainbow  and  God's  promise.  I  wont 
be  afraid  any  more,  but  I  do  wish  it  would  not 
rain  so  hard,  and  that  the  wind  would  not 
blow  quite  so  much." 

"  We  are  all  in  God's  hands,  Maggie.  No 
harm  can  come  to  us  unless  he  wills  it." 

"  Franky  don't  like  this  great  wind  either, 
minima,"  said  Maggie,  "and  he  said  some- 
thing so  funny  about  it  this  morning.  It  was 
blowing  and  blowing,  and  the  windows  shook 
and  rattled  so,  and  Franky  began  to  cry  and 
said,  '  1  'fraid.'  Then  nurse  told  him  not  to 
be  afraid,  'cause  God  made  the  wind  blow,  and 


250  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

he  would  take  care  of  him.  A  little  while 
after,  he  was  standing  on  the  chair  by  the  win- 
dow, and  it  galed  harder  than  ever,  and  the 
wind  made  a  terrible  noise,  and  Franky  turned 
round  to  nurse  and  said,  '  How  God  do  blow  ! ' 
and  then  the  poor  little  fellow  began  to  cry 
again." 

"  Yes,  and  Maggie  was  very  good  to  him," 
said  Bessie ;  "  she  put  her  new  doll  in  the 
wagon,  and  let  him  pull  it  about  the  nur- 
sery, only  we  watched  him  all  the  time,  'cause 
he's  such  a  misfit."  (Bessie  meant  mischief.) 
"  Mamma,  will  you  yead  us  about  Noah  ?  " 

Mrs.  Bradford  took  the  Bible  and  read  the 
chapter  in  Genesis  which  tells  about  the  flood, 
and  the  children  listened  without  tiring  until 
she  had  finished. 

At  last  the  storm  was  over,  —  the  wind  and 
rain  ceased,  and  the  sky  cleared,  to  the  delight 
of  the  children,  but  they  still  heard  a  great 
deal  of  the  storm  and  the  damage  which  had 
been  done.  Many  vessels  had  been  wrecked, 
some  with  men  and  women  on  board,  who  had 


The  Adventure.  251 

been  drowned  in  the  sea.  Some  miles  farther 
up  the  shore,  a  large  ship  had  been  cast  upon 
the  rocks,  where  she  was  driven  by  the  gale. 
The  gnus  of  distress  she  had  fired  had  been 
heard  by  the  people  of  Quam  the  night  before 
the  storm  ceased.  It  was  an  emigrant  ship 
coming  from  Europe,  and  there  were  hundreds 
of  poor  people  on  board,  many  of  whom  were 
drowned  ;  and  most  of  the  saved  lost  every- 
thing they  had  in  the  world,  so  there  was 
much  suffering  among  them.  Mr.  Howard 
and  Mr.  Norris  drove  over  to  the  place,  to  see 
if  anything  could  be  done  for  them,  and  came 
back  to  try  and  raise  money  among  their 
friends  and  acquaintances  to  buy  food  and 
clothing. 

Maggie  and  Bessie  were  down  on  the  beach 
with  their  father  and  Colonel  Rush  when  Mr. 
Howard  joined  them,  and  told  them  some  of 
the  sad  scenes  he  had  just  seen.  The  littlo 
girls  were  very  much  interested,  and  the  gen- 
tlemen seemed  so  too.  Mr.  Bradford  and  Mr. 
Duncan  gave   them   money,  and    the  colonel. 


252  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side, 

too,  pulled  out  his  pocket-book,  and  taking  out 
a  roll  of  bills,  handed  Mr.  Howard  two  or 
three.  Mr.  Howard  was  still  talking,  and  the 
colonel,  who  was  listening  earnestly,  and  who 
was  always  careless  with  his  money,  did  not 
pay  much  heed  to  what  he  was  doing.  He 
put  the  roll  of  bank-notes  back  in  his  pocket- 
book,  and,  as  he  thought,  put  the  book  in  his 
pocket ;  but  instead  of  going  in,  it  dropped 
upon  the  sand  behind  the  rock  on  which  he 
sat,  and  no  one  saw  it  fall,  but  a  bad  boy 
standing  a  little  way  off. 

Now  this  boy  was  a  thief  and  a  liar.  Per- 
haps no  one  had  ever  taught  him  better;  but 
however  that  was,  he  was  quite  willing  to  do 
anything  wicked  for  the  sake  of  a  little  money. 
He  saw  the  soldier  take  out  the  roll  of  bank- 
notes, put  them  back  again,  and  then  drop  the 
pocket-book  on  the  sand,  and  he  hoped  no  ono 
would  notice  it,  so  that  he  might  pick  it  up 
when  they  had  gone. 

By  and  by  the  colonel  said  he  was  tired,  and 
thought   ho   would    go  homo.     Mr.   Bradford 


Bessie  at  s™  Side. 


1).  252. 


The  Adventure.  253 

and  the  other  gentlemen  said  they  would  go 
with  him,  Mr.  Bradford  telling  his  little  girls 
to  come  too. 

"  In  a  minute,  papa,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  my  dol- 
ly's hat  has  come  off,  and  I  must  put  it  on." 

"  We'll  go  on  then,"  said  her  father;  "you 
can  run  after  us." 

The  gentlemen  walked  on,  while  Bessie  be- 
gan to  put  on  Miss  Margaret  Horace  Rush 
Bradford's  hat. 

"  Oh,  Maggie  !  "  she  said,  "  there's  Lily  Nor- 
ris  going  out  in  the  boat  with  her  father,  and 
mamma  said  we  might  ask  her  to  tea.  I  know 
she'd  yather  come  with  us ;  you  yun  ask  her, 
while  I  put  on  my  dolly's  hat,  and  then  I'll 
come  too." 

Maggie  ran  on,  leaving  Bessie  alone.  The 
boy  came  a  little  nearer.  Bessie  put  on  her 
doll's  hat,  and  was  going  after  her  sister,  when 
she  dropped  her  doll's  parasol,  and  as  she 
stooped  to  pick  it  up,  she  saw  the  pocket-book. 

"Oh,  there's  my  soldier's  porte-monnaie !  " 
she  said  to  herself;  "I  know  it  is;  I'll  take  it 


254  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

to  him.  My  hands  are  so  full,  maybe  I'll  lose 
it.  I'll  put  it  in  my  bosom,  and  then  it  will 
be  all  safe." 

She  laid  doll,  parasol,  and  the  little  basket 
she  held  in  her  hand  upon  the  rock,  picked 
up  the  pocket-book,  and  pulling  down  the 
neck  of  her  spencer,  slipped  it  inside.  Just  at 
this  moment  the  boy  came  up  to  her. 

"  Give  me  that,"  he  said. 

"  What  ?  "  asked  Bessie,  drawing  back  from 
him. 

"  Don't  you  make  believe  you  don't  know, — 
that  pocket-book.     It's  mine." 

"  It  isn't,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  it's  the  colonel's." 

"  No,  'taint ;  it's  mine.  Hand  over  now, 
else  I'll  make  you." 

"  I  sha'n't,"  said  Bessie.  "  I  know  it's  the 
colonel's.  I've  seen  it  a  great  many  times, 
and  just  now  he  gave  Mr.  Howard  some 
money  out  of  it  for  the  poor  people  who  lost 
all  their  tilings." 

k'  Are  you  going  to  give  it  to  me  ?  "  said  the 
boy,  coming  nearer  to  her. 


The  Adventure.  255 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  am  not.  I  am  going 
to  give  it  to  the  colonel,  and  I  shall  tell  him 
what  a  very  naughty  boy  you  are.  Why,  I'm 
afraid  you're  a  stealer  !     Don't  you  know  —  " 

Bessie  was  stopped  by  the  boy  taking  hold 
of  her,  and  trying  to  drag  away  the  spen- 
cer, beneath  which  he  had  seen  her  slip  the 
pocket-book.  Just  at  this  moment  Maggie 
turned  her  head,  to  see  if  Bessie  were  coming, 
and  saw  her  struggling  in  the  grasp  of  the 
boy.  Down  went  her  new  doll,  happily  in  a 
soft  place  in  the  sand,  where  it  came  to  no 
harm,  and  forgetting  all  fear,  thinking  only 
of  her  little  sister,  she  ran  back  to  her  help. 

"  Leave  my  Bessie  be  !  Leave  my  Bessie 
be  !  "  she  screamed,  flying  upon  the  boy,  and 
fastening  with  both  her  hands  upon  the  arm 
with  which  he  was  tearing  away  the  spencer 
and  feeling  for  the  pocket-book,  while  he  held 
Bessie  with  the  other. 

"Let  go!"  he  said,  fiercely,  between  his 
teeth.  But  Maggie  only  held  the  tighter, 
screaming,  — 


256  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Leave  my  Bessie  be  !  Oh !  papa,  papa, 
do  come ! " 

Both  terrified  children  were  now  screaming 
at  the  top  of  their  voices,  and  they  were 
heard  by  their  father  and  the  other  gentlemen, 
who  turned  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  Al- 
though they  were  at  a  distance,  Mr.  Bradford 
saw  his  little  girls  were  in  great  trouble. 
Back  he  came,  as  fast  as  lie  could,  Mr.  How- 
ard and  Uncle  John  after  him,  the  colonel, 
too,  as  quick  as  his  crutches  would  carry  him. 

"  Let  go  !  "  cried  the  boy,  as  he  saw  Mr. 
Bradford,  letting  go  his  own  hold  on  Bessie, 
and  giving  Maggie  a  furious  blow  across  the 
face.  But  fearing  he  would  seize  Bessie 
again,  brave  little  Maggie  held  fast. 

"  Take  that,  then  !  "  said  the  boy,  giving  her 
another  and  a  harder  blow. 

Maggie  fell,  striking  her  head  against  the 
edge  of  the  rock,  and  the  boy  turned  to  run 
before  Mr.  Bradford  reached  the  spot.  But 
all  this  time  another  pair  of  eyes  had  been 
upon    him.      Four   swift   feet     were     coming 


The  Adventure.  257 

toward  him,  and  ever  so  many  sharp  teeth 
were  set  for  a  grip  of  him.  While  the  chil- 
dren had  been  with  their  father,  Toby,  Mr. 
Jones'  great  white  dog,  had  been  seated  on 
the  edge  of  the  bank  before  the  house,  watch- 
ing the  people  as  he  was  accustomed  to  do. 

Now  between  Toby  and  Joe  Sands,  the 
boy  who  tried  to  take  the  pocket-book,  there 
was  great  enmity.  Joe  never  saw  Toby  with- 
out trying  to  provoke  him  to  a  quarrel  by 
making  faces  at  him,  and  throwing  sticks  and 
stones ;  but  though  the  dog  would  growl  and 
show  his  teeth,  he  had  never  yet  tried  to  bite 
him.. 

This  afternoon,  the  moment  Joe  appeared, 
Toby  seemed  to  suspect  mischief.  He  straight- 
ened himself  up,  put  his  head  on  one  side, 
cocked  up  one  ear  and  drooped  the  other. 
Toby  was  not  a  handsome  dog  at  the  best  of 
times,  and  it  was  not  becoming  to  him  to  hold 
his  ears  in  this  fashion.  He  looked  very  fierce 
as  lie  sat  thus,  but  Joe  did  not  see  him,  or  he 
might  have  been  afraid  to  meddle  with  Bcssio. 

17 


258  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

Toby  never  told  whether  he  saw  the  colonel 
drop  the  pocket-book,  but  from  the  minute 
it  fell,  he  looked  all  ready  for  a  spring,  and 
never  took  his  eyes  from  Joe.  When  the  boy 
spoke  to  Bessie,  he  appeared  still  more  un- 
easy, rose  to  his  feet,  snarled,  and  gave  short, 
angry  barks,  but  did  not  think  it  was  time  to 
interfere  till  Joe  laid  his  hand  upon  the  little 
girl.  Then  his  patience  was  at  an  end,  and 
with  a  furious,  rough  bark,  he  rushed  over  the 
bank,  down  the  beach,  and  just  as  Joe  turned 
to  run  from  Mr.  Bradford,  seized  fast  hold  of 
his  leg.  Happily  for  Joe,  he  had  on  a  thick, 
strong  pair  of  boots  ;  but  even  through  these 
Toby's  teeth  came  in  a  way  far  from  pleasant. 
Not  a  step  could  he  stir,  and  in  an  instant  Mr. 
Bradford  and  the  other  gentlemen  came  up. 
Mr.  Bradford  stooped  to  pick  up  Maggie,  while 
Mr.  Howard  collared  Joe.  Even  then  Toby 
would  not  let  go,  but  gave  Joe  a  good  shake, 
which  made  him  cry  out  with  pain.  Poor 
Maggie  was  quite  stunned  for  a  moment  by 
the  blow  which  Joe  had  given  her,  and  there 


The  Adventure.  259 

was  a  bad  cut  on  her  head,  where  it  had 
struck  the  rock,  while  one  side  of  her  face 
was  much  bruised  and  scratched.  But  when, 
a  moment  after,  she  came  to  herself,  her  first 
thought  was  still  for  Bessie,  who  was  crying 
loudly  with  terror  and  distress  for  her  sister. 

"  Oh,  my  Bessie,  my  Bessie  !  leave  her  be  !  " 
she  said,  as  she  slowly  opened  her  eyes. 

"  Bessie  is  safe,  my  darling,"  said  her  fa- 
ther. "  She  is  not  hurt  at  all.  My  poor  little 
Maggie  !  "  and  sitting  down  on  the  rock,  with 
her  on  his  knee,  he  tenderly  bound  up  her 
head  with  his  handkerchief.  By  this  time, 
Colonel  Rush  and  two  or  three  more  people 
had  come  up,  and  Uncle  John  went  on  to  the 
house,  to  tell  Mrs.  Bradford  what  had  hap- 
pened, so  that  she  might  not  be  startled  when 
she  saw  Maggie. 

Mr.  Howard  kept  his  hand  on  Joe's  shoul- 
der, but  there  was  not  much  need,  for  Toby 
still  held  him  fast,  and  if  he  made  the  least 
move,  gave  him  a  hint  to  keep  still,  which  Joe 
thought  it  best  to  mind. 


260  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Mr.  Bradford  carried  Maggie  to  the  house, 
and  the  rest  followed  ;  but  it  was  a  long  time 
before  any  one  could  make  out  what  had  hap- 
pened. Bessie  was  too  much  frightened  to 
tell,  Maggie  too  sick,  and  Joe  too  sullen.  And 
Maggie  did  not  know  about  the  pocket-book. 
All  she  could  tell  was,  that  she  had  seen  Bes- 
sie struggling  with  the  boy,  and  had  run  to 
help  her.  At  last  Bessie  was  quieted,  and 
then  told  the  story  in  her  straightforward 
way,  putting  her  hand  in  her  bosom  and  pull- 
ing out  the  pocket-book. 

"  Oh,  you  villain  !  "  said  Mrs.  Jones,  who 
was  holding  the  basin  while  Mrs.  Bradford 
washed  the  blood  from  Maggie's  face  and  head. 
"  Oh,  you  villain  !  Aint  it  enough  to  go 
robbin'  orchards  and  melon  patches,  and  farm- 
ers' wagons  market-days,  but  you  must  be 
fighting  and  knocking  down  babies  like  these 
to  get  what's  not  your  own  ?  If  you  don't  see 
the  inside  of  the  county  jail  for  this,  my 
name's  not  Susan  Jones.  And  you'd  have 
been  there  long  ago,  only  for  your  poor  moth- 


77*6'  Adventure.  261 

er,  whose  heart  ye're  breakin'  with  your  bad 
ways.  That's  you,  Toby,  my  boy  ;  you  know 
when  you've  a  rascal  fast ;  but  you  may  let 
him  go  now,  for  there's  your  master,  and  he 
will  take  him  in  hand." 

Mr.  Jones  was  the  constable,  and  Toby 
knew  this  quite  as  well  as  if  he  went  on  two 
feet  instead  of  four.  When  Mr.  Jones  was 
sent  to  arrest  any  one,  he  always  took  Toby 
with  him,  and  it  was  curious  to  see  how  the 
dog  would  watch  the  prisoner,  and  seem  to 
feel  that  he  had  quite  as  much  share  as  his 
master  in  bringing  him  to  be  punished  for  the 
wicked  things  he  had  done.  As  soon  as  Mr. 
Jones  came  in  the  room,  he  let  go  of  Joe,  but 
sat  down  close  to  him,  ready  to  take  another 
grip,  if  he  tried  to  run  away. 

"  And  what's  to  be  done  about  your  poor 
mother  ?  "  said  Mr.  Jones,  when  he  had  heard 
the  story.  "  I  shall  have  to  have  you  up  for 
this.     It  will  go  nigh  to  kill  her." 

Joe  made  no  answer,  only  looked  more  sul- 
len and  obstinate  than  ever. 


262  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"Mr.  Jones,"  said  Maggie,  in  a  weak  little 
voice,  "  please  takehim  away  ;  it  frightens  me 
to  see  him." 

"  I'm  going  to  take  him  right  off  where  he 
wont  trouble  you  for  one  while,"  said  Mr. 
Jones.  "  But  how  is  it  that  you  are  afraid  of 
him  just  standing  here,  and  you  weren't  afraid 
of  him  when  he  was  handling  you  and  Bes- 
sie so  rough  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  think  about  that,"  said  Maggie, 
"  and  if  I  had,  I  couldn't  let  anybody  do  any- 
thing to  my  Bessie.  I  thought  he  was  going 
to  kill  her.  Oh,  dear  !  oh,  dear!  "  and  Maggie 
began  to  cry  again  ;  she  could  not  have  told 
why,  except  that  she  could  not  help  it. 

"  Come  along,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  taking  hold 
of  Joe's  arm. 

"  Mr.  Jones,"  said  Bessie,  "  are  you  going 
to  take  him  to  the  jail  ? " 

"  I  am  going  to  take  him  to  the  squire,  and 
I  guess  he'll  give  him  a  few  days  of  it.  Serve 
him  right  too." 

"  But  I'm  'fraid  it  will  break  his  mother's 


The  Adventure.  263 

heart,"  said    Bessie ;    "  Mrs.    Jones    said    it 
would." 

"  He's  breakin'  his  mother's  heart  fast 
enough,  any  way,"  said  Mr.  Jones.  "  Drinkin' 
and  swearin'  and  stealin'  and  idlin'  round, 
when  he  ought  to  be  a  help  to  her,  poor,  sick 
body  !  It  isn't  goin'  to  do  him  nor  his  mother 
no  harm  for  him  to  be  shut  up  for  a  little 
while  where  he  can  think  over  his  bad  ways. 
He  wants  bringin'  up  somewhere,  and  Toby 
knows  it  too." 

Toby  growled  and  wagged  his  tail,  as  if  to 
say  he  agreed  with  Mr.  Jones.  The  growl 
was  for  Joe,  the  wag  for  his  master. 

"  You  surely  don't  think  he  ought  to  be  let 
off,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  "  when  he  hurt  Maggie 
that  way  ?  Why,  she's  going  to  have  a  black 
eye,  sure  as  a  gun  !  " 

Joe  walked  away  with  Toby  at  his  heels. 
Maggie's  head  was  bound  up,  and  her  bruises 
washed  with  arnica,  and  both  she  and  Bessie 
were  petted  and  comforted. 

As  for   the   new   doll,  which  Maggie   had 


264  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

thrown  down  in  her  haste  to  run  to  her  little 
sister's  help,  it  was  picked  up  by  one  of  the 
gentlemen,  who  brought  it  safe  and  unbroken 
to  Maggie.  To  be  sure,  Miss  Bessie  Margaret 
Marion's  dress  was  rather  soiled  by  the  wet 
sand  on  which  she  had  fallen  ;  but  as  it  was 
of  muslin,  it  could  easily  be  washed,  and  Mrs. 
Jones  soon  made  it  quite  clean  again. 


XIX. 

SOUL  AND  INSTINCT. 

APA,"  said  Maggie,  the  next  morning, 
as  she  sat  on  his  knee  at  the  breakfast- 
table,  leaning  her  aching  little  head 
against  his  breast,  —  "  papa,  is  there  anything 
in  the  paper  about  our  'sault  and  battery  ?  " 

"  About  what  ?  " 

"  Our  'sault  and  battery,"  said  Maggie. 
"  The  other  day,  Uncle  John  was  reading 
to  Aunt  Helen  how  Mr.  King  was  knocked 
down,  and  beaten  by  a  man  who  didn't  like 
him ;  and  he  called  it  an  '  unprovoked  'sault 
and  battery.'  I  thought  that  meant  when 
somebody  hit  somebody  that  didn't  do  any- 
thing to  him." 

"  So  it  does,"  said  her  father,  trying  not  to 
smile,  "  and  yours  was  a  most  '  unprovoked 
assault  and  battery,'  my  poor  little  woman ; 
but  there  is  nothing  in  the  paper  about  it." 


266  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Do  you  think  that  there  should  be  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  Oh,  no,  mamma  ;  I'm  very  glad  there  isn't. 
I  thought  maybe  the  paper-maker  would  hear 
about  it,  and  put  it  into  his  paper ;  and  I 
didn't  want  people  to  be  reading  about  Bessie 
and  me.  Do  you  think  he  would  do  it  another 
day,  papa?" 

"  I  think  not,  dear  ;  you  need  not  be  afraid." 

"  I  don't  see  what's  the  reason  then,"  said 
Harry.  "  Maggie  is  a  real  heroine,  and  so  is 
Bessie.  Why,  there  isn't  a  boy  at  Quam, 
however  big  he  is,  that  would  dare  to  fight 
Joe  Sands  ;  and  to  think  of  our  mite  of  a  Bess 
standing  out  against  him,  and  holding  fast  to 
the  pocket-book,  and  Maggie  running  to  the 
rescue !  " 

"Yes,  you  little  speck  of  nothing  ground 
down  to  a  point,"  said  Uncle  John,  catching 
Bessie  up  in  his  arms,  "  how  dared  you  hold 
your  ground  against  such  a  great  rough  boy 
as  that  ? " 

"  Why,  it   was   the  colonel's   pocket-book," 


Soul  and  Instinct.  267 

said  Bessie,  "  and  he  was  going  to  take  it,  and 
it  wasn't  his ;  so  I  had  to  take  care  of  it,  you 
know.  I  couldn't  let  him  do  such  a  naughty 
thing." 

"  They're  bricks,  both  of  them,"  said  Harry. 

"  So  they  are,"  said  Fred ;  for  both  of  the 
boys  were  very  proud  of  their  little  sisters' 
courage  ;  "  and  Maggie  has  the  right  stuff  in 
her,  if  she  is  shy.  She  is  a  little  goose  where 
there  is  nothing  to  be  afraid  of,  and  a  lion 
where  there  is." 

"  Holloa !  what  is  all  this  heap  of  pennies 
for  ?  "  asked  the  colonel,  a  while  after,  as  he 
came  into  Mrs.  Jones'  parlor,  and  found  Mag- 
gie and  Bessie,  like  the  famous  king,  "  count- 
ing out  their  money."  He  had  come  up  the 
bank  and  paid  them  a  visit  two  or  three  times 
since  Maggie's  birthday,  so  that  they  were  not 
very  much  surprised  to  see  him. 

"  But  first  tell  me  how  that  poor  little  head 
and  face  are,  Maggie  ?  Why,  you  do  look  as 
if  you'd  been  to  the  wars.  Never  mind,  the 
bruises  will  soon  wear  away ;  and  as  for  the 


268  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

cut,  your  hair  will  hide  that.  It  is  not  every 
soldier  that  gets  over  his  scars  so  easily ;  and 
you  must  not  be  ashamed  of  yours  while  they 
last.  But  you  have  not  told  me  what  you  are 
going  to  do  with  so  much  money,"  he  added, 
when  he  was  comfortably  seated  in  the  arm- 
chair. 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  much,"  said  Maggie ;  "  it  is 
only  a  little,  and  we  wish  it  was  a  whole  lot." 

"  And  what  do  you  and  Bessie  want  with  a 
whole  lot  of  money  ?  I  should  think  you  had 
about  everything  little  girls  could  wish  for." 

"  Yes,  we  have,"  said  Bessie,  "  and  we  don't 
want  it  for  ourselves." 

"  Who  for,  then  ?  " 

"  For  those  poor  shipyecked  people.  Papa 
and  Uncle  John  have  gone  over  to  see  them ; 
and  mamma  and  Aunt  Helen  have  gone  to  the 
village  to  buy  some  flannel  and  calico  to  make 
things  for  the  poor  little  children  who  have 
lost  theirs.  Mr.  Howard  says  there's  a  baby 
there  that  hasn't  anything  but  a  ni'-gown,  and 
no  mother,  'cause  she  was  drowned.     A  sailor 


Soul  and  Instinct.  269 

man  has  it,  and  he's  going  to  take  care  of  it, 
but  he  hasn't  any  clothes  for  it.  And  we 
wanted  to  help  buy  things,  but  we  have  such 
a  very  little  money." 

"  Bessie  has  such  a  little,  'cause  she  spent  all 
hers  for  my  birthday  present,"  said  Maggie. 
"  Mamma  gives  us  six  cents  a  week,  but  it's 
such  a  little  while  since  my  birthday,  Bessie 
hasn't  saved  much.  I  have  more  than  she 
has,  but  not  a  great  deal." 

"  And  she  wanted  mamma  to  let  her  hem  a 
pock'-han'kerchief  and  earn  some  money," 
said  Bessie,  "  but  she  can't,  for  the  doctor  says 
she  rnusn't  use  her  eye  while  it's  so  black." 

"  Well,"  said  the  colonel,  "  I  think  you  two 
have  fairly  earned  the  right  to  dispose  of  at 
least  half  the  money  that  was  in  that  unfortu- 
nate pocket-book.  You  shall  say  what  shall 
be  done  with  it." 

Maggie  looked  as  if  she  did  not  know  what 
to  say. 

"  If  you  mean,  sir,"  said  Bessie,  "  that 
you're  going  to  give  us  half  that  money,  papa 


270  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

and  mamma  would  not  like  it.  They  don't 
allow  us  to  yeceive  money  from  people  who  are 
not  yelations  to  us." 

"  And  they  are  quite  right,"  said  the  colo- 
nel. "  I  should  not  like  you  to  do  it,  if  you 
were  my  little  girls.  But  I  do  not  mean  that 
I  will  give  you  the  money,  only  that  I  will  give 
it  away  for  any  purpose  you  may  choose. 
Your  father  and  mother  can  have  no  objec- 
tion to  that.  There  were  fifty  dollars  in  the 
pocket-book.  Half  of  that  is  twenty-five. 
Now,  shall  I  give  it  all  to  the  shipwrecked 
people,  or  shall  I  give  part  to  something 
else  ? " 

"  Will  you  please  to  'scuse  me  if  I  whisper 
to  Maggie  ?  "  said  Bessie. 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  colonel. 

They  whispered  together  for  a  minute  or 
two,  and  then  Bessie  said,  "  If  you  didn't 
mind  it,  sir,  we  would  like  to  give  half  to  Mrs. 
Sands ;  she's  very  poor,  and  sick  too ;  and 
she's  in  such  a  trouble  'cause  Joe's  so  bad. 
She  has  no  one  to  work  for  her  or  do  anything. 


Soul  and  Instinct.  271 

Mamma  sent  Jane  to  see  her,  and  she  told  us 
about  her ;  and  we're  so  very  sorry  for  her." 

"  Well,  you  are  two  forgiving  little  souls," 
said  the  colonel.  "  Do  you  want  me  to  give 
money  to  the  mother  of  the  boy  who  treated 
you  so  ?  " 

"  She  didn't  treat  us  so,"  said  Maggie, 
"  and  we  would  like  her  to  be  helped  'cause 
she's  so  very  poor.  She  cried  about  the  pock- 
et-book, and  she  is  a  good  woman.  She 
couldn't  help  it  if  Joe  was  so  bad.  We  can't 
help  being  a  little  speck  glad  that  Joe  is  shut 
up,  he's  such  a  dangerous  boy ;  and  we'd  be 
afraid  of  him  now ;  but  his  mother  feels  very 
bad  about  it.  So  if  you  want  to  do  what  we 
like  with  the  money,  sir,  please  give  half  to 
the  baby  in  the  shipwreck,  and  half  to  Joe's 
mother." 

"  Just  as  you  please,"  said  the  colonel ; 
"  twelve  and  a  half  to  the  baby,  twelve  and  a 
half  to  Mrs.  Sands.  I  shall  give  the  baby's 
money  to  Mrs.  Rush,  and  ask  her  to  buy  what 
it  needs.     Will  not  that  be  the  best  way  ?  " 


272  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

The  children  said  yes,  and  were  much 
pleased  at  the  thought  that  Mrs.  Sands  and 
the  little  orphan  baby  were  to  be  made  com- 
fortable with  part  of  the  money  which  they 
had  saved. 

"Now,  suppose  we  go  out  on  the  piazza," 
said  the  colonel ;  "  Mrs.  Rush  is  there  talking 
to  Grandpa  Duncan,  and  I  told  them  I  would 
come  out  again  when  I  had  seen  you." 

"  But  there's  no  arm-chair  out  there,"  said 
Maggie. 

"  Never  mind ;  the  settee  will  do  quite  as 
well  for  a  while." 

But  when  Mrs.  Jones  happened  to  pass  by, 
and  saw  the  colonel  sitting  on  the  piazza, 
nothing  would  do  but  she  must  bring  out  the 
arm-chair,  and  make  a  great  fuss  to  settle  him 
comfortably.  Maggie  could  not  help  confess- 
ing she  was  very  kind,  even  if  she  did  not  al- 
ways take  the  most  pleasant  way  of  showing  it. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  Bessie  ?  "  asked 
the  colonel,  after  he  had  talked  to  Mr.  Dun 
can  for  some  time. 


Soul  and  Instinct.  273 

Bessie  was  sitting  011  the  piazza  step,  look- 
ing at  Toby  with  a  very  grave  face,  as  he  lay 
beside  her  with  his  head  in  her  lap. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  for  Toby,"  she  answered. 

"  Why,  I  think  he  is  as  well  off  as  a  dog  can 
be.  He  looks  very  comfortable  there  with  his 
head  in  yonr  lap." 

"  But  he  hasn't  any  soul  to  be  saved,"  said 
the  child. 

"  He  does  not  know  that,"  said  the  colonel, 
carelessly ;  "  it  does  not  trouble  him." 

"  But,"  said  Bessie,  "  if  he  had  a  soul,  and 
knew  Jesus  died  to  save  it,  he  would  be  a  great 
deal  happier.  It  makes  us  feel  so  happy  to 
think  about  that.  Isn't  that  the  yeason  peo- 
ple are  so  much  better  and  happier  than  dogs, 
grandpa  ?  " 

"  That's  the  reason  they  should  be  happier 
and  better,  dear." 

"  There   are  some    people   who  know  they 

have  souls  to  be  saved,  who  don't  think  about 

it,  and  don't  care  if  Jesus  did  come  to  die  for 

them ;  are  there  not,  grandpa  ?  "  said  Maggie. 

18 


274  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Yes,  Maggie,  there  are  very  many  such 
people." 

"  Then  they  can't  be  happy,"  said  Bessie, — 
"  not  as  happy  as  Toby,  for  he  don't  know." 

"  I  don't  believe  Joe  thinks  mnch  about  his 
soul,"  said  Maggie. 

"  I  am  afraid  not,"  answered  Mr.  Duncan. 

"  Grandpa,"  said  Bessie,  "  if  people  know 
about  their  souls,  and  don't  care,  I  don't  think 
they  are  much  better  than  Toby." 

"  But,  grandpa,"  said  Maggie,  "  Toby  be- 
haves just  as  if  he  knew  some  things  are 
naughty,  and  other  things  right.  How  can 
he  tell  if  he  has  no  soul  ?  How  did  he  know 
it  was  naughty  for  Joe  to  steal  the  pocket- 
book  ;  and  what  is  the  reason  he  knows  Susie 
must  not  go  near  the  fire  nor  the  cellar 
stairs  ?  " 

"  It  is  instinct  which  teaches  him  that,"  said 
grandpa. 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  We  cannot  tell  exactly.  It  is  something 
which  God  has  niven  to  animals  to  teach  theo 


Soul  and  Instinct.  275 

what  is  best  for  themselves  and  their  young. 
It  is  not  reason,  for  they  have  no  soul  nor  mind 
as  men,  women,  and  children  have  ;  but  by  it 
some  animals,  such  as  dogs  and  horses,  often 
seem  to  know  what  is  right  and  wrong.     It  is 
instinct  which  teaches  the  bird  to  build  her 
nest.     I  am  an  old  man,  and  I  suppose  you 
think  I  know  a  great  deal,  but  if  I  wanted  to 
build  a  house  for  my  children,  I  would  not 
know  how  to  do  it  unless  I  were  shown.     But 
little  birdie,  untaught  by  any  one,  —  led  only 
by  the  instinct  which  God  has  given  her, — 
makes  her  nest  soft  and  comfortable  for  her 
young.     It  is  instinct  which  teaches  Toby  to 
know  a  man  or  a  boy  who  is  to  be  trusted 
from  one  who  is  not;  which  makes  him  keep 
Susie  from  creeping  into  danger  when  he  is 
told  to  take  care  of  her." 

"  And,  grandpa,"  said  Bessie,  "  Toby  had 
an  instinct  about  our  baby,  too.  The  other 
day,  when  nurse  left  her  asleep  in  the  cradle, 
and  went  down  stairs  for  a  few  minutes,  she 
woke  up  and  fretted.     Toby  heard  her,  and 


276  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

went  down  stairs,  and  pulled  nurse's  dress, 
and  made  her  come  up  after  him  to  baby." 

"Yes,  that  was  his  instinct,"  said  Mr.  Dun- 
can. "He  knew  that  baby  wanted  to  beta- 
ken up,  and  that  nurse  should  come  to  her." 

"  He  did  such  a  funny  thing  the  other 
day,"  said  Maggie,  "  when  Fred  played  him  a 
trick.  You  know  he  brings  Mr.  Jones'  old 
slippers  every  evening,  and  puts  them  by  the 
kitchen  door,  so  Mr.  Jones  can  have  them  all 
ready  when  he  comes  from  his  work.  You 
tell  it,  Bessie,  it  hurts  my  face  to  speak  so 
much." 

"  Well,"  said  Bessie,  who  was  always 
ready  to  talk,  "  Fred  took  the  slippers,  and 
hid  them  in  his  trunk,  'cause  he  wanted  to 
see  what  Toby  would  do.  Toby  looked  and 
looked  all  over,  but  the  poor  fellow  could  not 
find  them.  So  at  last  he  brought  an  old  pair 
of  yubber  over-shoes,  and  put  them  by  the 
kitchen  door.  Then  he  went  away  and  lay 
down  behind  the  door,  and  he  looked  so 
'shamed,  and  so  uncomfable,  Maggie   and   I 


Soul  and  Instinct.  277 

felt  yeal  sorry  for  him,  and  we  wanted  to  show 
him  where  the  slippers  were,  bnt  we  didn't 
know  ourselves,  and  Fred  wouldn't  tell  us. 
Then  Fred  called  him  ever  so  many  times, 
but  he  was  very  cross,  and  growled,  and  would 
not  go  at  all  till  Fred  said,  '  Come,  old  dog, 
come,  get  the  slippers.'  Then  he  came  out 
and  yan  after  Fred,  and  we  all  yan,  and  it 
was  so  funny  to  see  him.  He  was  so  glad, 
and  he  pulled  out  the  slippers  and  put  them 
in  their  place,  and  then  he  took  the  old  yub- 
bers  and  put  them  in  the  closet,  and  lay  down 
with  his  paws  on  the  slippers,  as  if  he  thought 
somebody  would  take  them  away  again.  And 
now  Mrs.  Jones  says  that  every  morning  he 
hides  them  in  a  place  of  his  own,  where  no 
one  can  find  them  but  his  own  self.  I  think 
that  is  very  smart ;  don't  you,  grandpa  ?  " 

"  Very  smart,"  said  Mr.  Duncan  ;  "  Toby  is 
a  wise  dog." 

"  But,  grandpa,  don't  Toby  have  conscience, 
too,  when  he  knows  what's  good  and  what's 
naughty?     Mamma  says  it's  conscience   that 


278  Uessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

tells  us  when  we're  good,  and  when  we're 
naughty." 

"  No,  dear  ;  Toby  has  no  conscience.  If  he 
knows  the  difference  between  right  and  wrong 
in  some  things,  it  is  partly  instinct,  partly  be- 
cause he  has  been  taught.  Conscience  is  that 
which  makes  us  afraid  of  displeasing  God, 
and  breaking  his  holy  laws,  but  Toby  feels 
nothing  of  this.  He  is  only  afraid  of  displeas- 
ing his  master  ;  he  has  neither  love  nor  fear 
of  One  greater  than  that  master,  for  he  does 
not  know  there  is  such  a  wise  and  holy  being. 
If  Toby  should  steal,  or  do  anything  wrong, 
God  would  not  call  him  to  account  for  it,  be- 
cause he  has  given  to  the  dog  no  soul,  no 
conscience,  no  feeling  of  duty  to  his  Maker." 

"  Grandpa,"  said  Bessie,  "  don't  you  mean 
that  if  Toby  is  naughty,  God  will  not  punish 
him  when  he  dies,  'cause  he  didn't  know 
about  him  ? " 

"  Yes,  dear ;  for  Toby  there  is  neither  re- 
ward nor  punishment  in  another  world.  For 
him.  there  is  no  life  to  come." 


Soul  and  Instinct.  279 

"  Grandpa,"  said  Maggie,  "  where  will  Toby's 
instinct  go  when  he  dies  ?  " 

"  It  will  die  with  the  dog.  It  is  mortal  ; 
that  is,  it  must  die  ;  but  our  souls  are  immor 
tal ;  they  will  go  on  living  for  ever  and  ever, 
either  loving  and  praising  God  through  all 
eternity,  or  sinking  down  to  endless  woe  and 
suffering.  Toby  is  a  good,  wise,  faithful  dog, 
and  knows  a  great  deal,  but  the  weakest,  the 
most  ignorant  boy  or  girl  —  that  poor  idiot  you 
saw  the  other  day  —  is  far  better,  of  far  more 
value  in  the  sight  of  God,  for  he  has  a  soul  ; 
and  to  save  that  precious  soul,  our  Lord  left 
his  heavenly  home,  and  died  upon  the  cross. 
Think  what  a  soul  is  worth  when  it  needed 
that  such  a  price  be  paid  for  its  salvation  !  " 

"  I  can't  help  being  sorry  for  Toby,  'cause 
he  has  no  soul,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  but  I  'm  a  great 
deal  sorrier  for  those  people  that  don't  think 
about  their  souls,  and  go  to  Jesus  to  be  saved. 
How  can  they  help  it,  when  they  know  he 
wants  them  to  come  ?  Grandpa,  don't  they 
feel  ungrateful  all  the  time  ?  " 


280  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"I  am  afraid  not,  Bessie.  If  they  do  not 
feel  their  need  of  a  Saviour,  they  do  not  feel 
their  ingratitude." 

Bessie  was  silent  for  a  minute  or  two,  and 
sat  gazing  for  a  while  far  away  over  the  water, 
with  the  thoughtful  look  she  so  often  had  in 
her  eyes,  and  then  she  said  slowly,  as  if  speak- 
ing to  herself,  — 

"  I  wonder  if  they  think  about  for  ever  and 
ever  and  ever." 

No  one  answered  her.  Not  a  word  had 
the  colonel  said  since  Bessie  had  said  that  she 
thought  those  who  did  not  care  for  their  souls 
were  no  better  than  Toby  ;  but  he  sat  with  his 
eyes  sometimes  on  her,  sometimes  on  the  dog, 
and  his  face,  which  was  turned  from  his  wife 
and  Mr.  Duncan,  had  a  vexed,  troubled  look. 
Mrs.  Rush  had  often  seen  that  look  during  the 
last  few  days,  and  now  she  guessed  it  was 
there,  even  though  she  did  not  see  it.  But, 
presently,  when  the  carriage  was  seen  coming 
back  with  Mrs.  Bradford  and  Mrs.  Duncan,  he 
drove  it  away,  and  was  soon  laughing  and  talk- 
ins;  as  usual. 


XX. 

NURSE    TAKEN  BT  SURPRISE. 

URSE  and  Jane  had  taken  all  the  chil- 
dren for  a  long  walk.  About  a  mile 
up  the  shore  lived  the  woman  who 
took  in  Mrs.  Bradford's  washing.  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford wished  to  send  her  a  message,  and  told 
Jane  to  go  with  it.  There  were  two  ways  by 
which  this  house  could  be  reached:  one  by  the 
shore,  the  other  by  a  road  which  ran  farther 
back,  part  of  the  way  through  the  woods. 
About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  this  side  of  the 
washer-woman's,  it  turned  off  nearer  to  the 
shore  ;  and  here  it  was  crossed  by  the  brook, 
which  also  crossed  the  road  to  the  station.  It 
was  wider  here,  and  deeper,  and  ran  faster 
towards  the  sea.  Over  it  was  built  a  rough 
bridge.  Two  beams  were  laid  from  bank  to 
bank  :  on  these  were  placed  large  round  logs, 
a  foot  or  two  apart,  and  above  these  were  the 


282  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

planks,  with  a  miserable  broken  rail.  It 
was  a  pretty  place  thousrli,  and  the  walk  to  it 
was  shady  and  pleasant,  —  pleasanter  than  the 
beach  on  a  warm  day. 

Nurse  said  she  would  walk  to  the  bridge 
with  the  children,  and  rest  there,  while  Jane 
went  the  rest  of  the  way.  When  Harry  and 
Fred  heard  this,  they  said  they  would  go  too, 
for  the  brook  was  a  capital  place  to  fish  for 
minnows.  So  they  all  set  off,  the  boys  carry- 
ing their  fishing-rods  and  tin  pails. 

But  when  they  reached  the  bridge,  they 
found  there  would  be  no  fishing.  The  rains 
of  the  great  storm  a  few  days  ago  had  swol- 
len the  brook  very  much,  and  there  had  been 
several  heavy  showers  since,  which  had  kept 
it  full,  so  it  was  now  quite  a  little  river,  with 
a  muddy  current  running  swiftly  down  to  the 
sea.  The  tiny  fish  were  all  hidden  away  in 
some  snug  hole,  and  the  boys  knew  it  was  of 
no  use  to  put  out  their  lines. 

"  Oh,  bother  !  "  said  Harry.  "  I  thought 
the  water  would  be  lower  by  this  time.     Never 


Nurse  taken  by  Surprise.  283 

mind,  we'll  have  some  fun  yet,  Fred.  Let's 
go  in  and  have  a  wade  !  " 

"  I  don't  believe  father  would  let  us,"  said 
Fred.  "  He  said  we  nmst  not  the  day  before 
yesterday,  and  the  water  is  as  high  now  as 
it  was  then." 

"  Let's  go  back,  then,"  said  Harry.  "  I 
don't  want  to  stay  here  doing  nothing." 

"  No,"  said  Fred.  "  Let's  go  on  with  Jane 
to  the  washer-woman's.  She  has  a  pair  of 
guinea-fowls,  with  a  whole  brood  of  young 
ones.  Bessie  and  I  saw  them  the  other  day, 
when  Mr.  Jones  took  us  up  there  in  his  wagon. 
We'll  go  and  see  them  again." 

Maggie  and  Bessie  asked  if  they  might  go 
too,  but  nurse  said  it  was  too  far.  Bessie  did 
not  care  much,  as  she  had  seen  the  birds  once, 
but  Maggie  was  very  much  disappointed,  for 
she  had  heard  so  much  of  the  guinea-fowls, 
that  she  was  very  anxious  to  have  a  look  at 
them.  So  Jane  said,  if  nurse  would  let  her  go, 
she  would  carry  her  part  of  the  way.  So  at 
last  nurse  laid  she  might.     Then  Franky  said 


284  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

he  wanted  to  go  too,  but  he  was  pacified  by 
having  a  stick  with  a  line  on  the  end  of  it 
given  to  him,  with  which  he  thought  he  was 
fishing. 

A  tree  which  had  been  blown  down  by  the 
gale  lay  near  the  bridge,  and  on  this  nurse  sat 
down  with  baby  on  her  knee,  and  Bessie  and 
Franky  beside  her.  Franky  sat  on  the  end  of 
the  log,  toward  the  water,  where  he  was  quite 
safe,  if  he  sat  still,  and  nurse  meant  to  keep  a 
close  eye  on  him.  But  something  happened 
which  made  her  forget  him  for  a  moment  or 
two. 

"  And  I'll  tell  you  Cinderella,"  said  nurse 
to  Bessie,  as  the  others  went  off. 

"  I'd  yather  hear  about  when  you  were  a 
little  girl  on  your  father's  farm,"  said  Bessie. 

Nurse  liked  to  talk  of  this,  so  she  began  to 
tell  Bessie  of  the  time  when  she  was  young, 
and  lived  at  home  in  far-off  England.  Bessie 
had  heard  it  all  very  often,  but  she  liked  it 
none  the  less  for  that.  Franky  sat  still,  now 
and    then    pulling    up    his    line,  and    saying, 


Nurse  taken  by  Surprise.  285 

"  Not  one  fis ! "  and  then  throwing  it  out 
again. 

Suddenly  the  sound  of  wheels  was  heard, 
and  looking  round,  they  saw  Miss  Adams' 
pony  carriage,  with  the  lady  driving,  and  the 
little  groom  behind. 

Several  times  since  the  day  when  Miss  Ad- 
ams had  teased  Bessie,  and  Bessie  had  called 
her  a  kitchen  lady,  she  had  shown  a  wish  to 
speak  to  the  little  girl ;  but  she  could  never 
persuade  her  to  come  near  her.  Once  or 
twice,  as  Bessie  was  passing  through  the  hall 
of  the  hotel,  Miss  Adams  had  opened  her 
door  and  called  to  her  in  a  coaxing  voice  ;  but 
Bessie  always  ran  off  as  fast  as  possible,  with- 
out waiting  to  answer.  As  Miss  Adams  pass- 
ed, she  nodded,  drove  on  a  little  way,  and  then 
turned  back.  She  pulled  in  her  horses  close 
to  nurse  and  Bessie.  Baby  crowed  and  shook 
her  little  hands  at  the  carriage.  It  was  a 
pretty  affair,  the  low  basket,  softly  cushioned, 
the  black  ponies  with  their  bright,  glitter- 
ing   harness,   and    the  jaunty   groom   in   his 


286  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

neat  livery;  but  Bessie  had  no  wish  to  get 
in  it  when  Miss  Adams  said,  "  Come,  Bessie, 
jump  in  and  take  a  ride." 

"  No,  thank  you,  ma'am,"  said  Bessie,  draw- 
ing closer  to  nurse. 

"  Yes,  come,"  said  Miss  Adams,  coaxingly. 
"  I'll  give  you  a  nice  ride,  and  bring  you  back 
quite  safe  to  your  nurse,  or  take  you  home,  as 
you  like." 

"  I'd  yather  not,"  said  Bessie,  taking  hold  of 
nurse's  dress,  as  if  she  feared  Miss  Adams 
might  take  her  off  by  force. 

"  You  don't  know  how  pleasant  it  is,"  said 
Miss  Adams,  —  "  come." 

"  I  don't  want  to  yide,"  said  Bessie. 

All  this  time  nurse  had  been  looking  very 
grim.  She  was  quite  an  old  woman,  and  had 
lived  in  the  family  a  great  many  years,  for  she 
had  taken  care  of  Mrs.  Bradford  herself  when 
she  was  a  little  girl.  She  loved  her  and  her 
children  dearly,  and  would  have  done  any- 
thing in  the  world  for  them,  and  if  any  one 
brought  harm  or  trouble  to  her  nurslings,  slip 


Nurse  taken  by  Surprise.  287 

ruffled  up  her  feathers  like  an  old  hen,  and 
thought  herself  at  liberty  to  do  or  say  any- 
thing she  pleased. 

"  And  she  wouldn't  be  let,  if  she  did  want 
to,"  she  said  sharply  to  Miss  Adams. 

The  young  lady  looked  at  the  old  woman 
with  a  sparkle  in  her  eye. 

"  I'll  take  the  baby,  too,  if  you  like,"  she 
said,  mischievously ;  "  I  can  drive  quite  well 
with  her  on  my  lap,  and  Bessie  can  sit  beside 
me." 

"  My  baby  !  "  said  nurse,  who  seemed  to 
think  the  baby  her  own  special  property,  — 
"  my  baby !  Do  you  think  I'd  risk  her  neck 
in  a  gimcrack  like  that  ?  There  isn't  one  of 
them  I'd  trust  a  hand's  breadth  with  ye,  not  if 
ye  was  to  go  down  on  your  bended  knees." 

"  I'm  not  likely  to  do  that,"  said  Miss 
Adams,  turning  round  and  driving  off  once 
more,  "  Well,  good-by,  Bessie,  since  you  wont 
come." 

She  had  gone  but  a  short  distance,  when  she 
drew  in  the  ponies  again,  jumped  out,  tossed 


288  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

the  reins  to  the  groom,  and  ran  back  to  the 
bridge.  "  Bessie,"  she  said,  "  I  want  to  speak 
to  you  ;  will  you  come  over  on  the  other  side 
of  the  road  ?  " 

Bessie  looked  as  shy  as  Maggie  might 
have  done.     "  No,  ma'am,"  she  answered. 

"  But  I  have  something  very  particular  to 
say  to  you,  and  I  shall  not  tease  or  trouble 
you  at  all.  Come,  dear,  that  is  a  good  child. 
If  you  do  not,  I  shall  think  you  are  angry 
with  me  still." 

"  No,  I'm  not,"  said  Bessie.    "  Well,  I'll  go." 

"  Not  with  my  leave,"  said  nurse.  "  If  you 
have  anything  to  say,  just  say  it  here,  miss. 
You  can't  have  anything  to  tell  this  child  her 
old  nurse  can't  hear." 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  said  Miss  Adams.  "  Come, 
Bessie.  I  shall  not  pull  your  hair.  I  want  to 
speak  to  you  very  much.  Don't  you  wish 
to   do  as  you  would  be   done  by  ?  " 

"I  think  I'd  better  go;  bett'n't  I?"  said 
Bessie.  "  I  don't  want  her  to  think  I'm  angry 
yet." 


Nurse  taken  by  Surprise.  289 

"  Sit  ye  still,"  said  nurse,  without  looking  at 
Miss  Adams.  "  I  sha'n't  let  ye  go  to  have  I 
know  not  what  notions  put  into  your  head." 

Miss  Adams  looked  vexed,  and  bit  her  lip, 
then  she  laughed.  "  Now,  don't  be  cross, 
nurse.  I  am  not  going  to  say  anything  to 
Bessie  which  you  or  her  mother  would  hot 
approve." 

"  Maybe,"  said  nurse,  dryly. 

"And  if  Mrs.  Bradford  were  here,  I  am 
sure  she  would  let  Bessie  come." 

"  Maybe,"  said  nurse  again,  beginning  to 
trot  baby  rather  harder  than  she  liked. 

Miss  Adams  stood  tapping  the  toe  of  her 
gaiter  with  her  riding  whip.  "  I  promise 
you,"  she  said,  "  that  I  will  let  her  come  back 
to  you  in  a  moment  or  two,  and  that  I  will 
not  do  the  least  thing  which  could  trouble  or 
tease  her." 

"  Promises  and  fair  words  cost  nothing," 
said  nurse. 

"  How  dare  you  say  that  to  me  ?  "  she  said, 
losing  her  tempei   at  last.     "  Whatever  else  1 

19 


290  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

may  have  done,  I  have  never  yet  broken  my 
word!  Bessie," — she  said  this  in  a  softer 
tone,  — "  don't  think  that  of  me,  dear.  I 
would  not  say  what  was  not  true,  or  break  a 
promise,  for  the  world."  Then  to  nurse  again  : 
"  You're  an  obstinate  old  woman,  and  — 
Look  at  that  child  !  " 

These  last  words  were  said  in  a  startled 
tone  and  with  a  frightened  look. 

Nurse  turned  her  head,  started  up,  and 
then  stood  still  with  fear  and  amazement. 
Finding  himself  unnoticed,  Master  Franky 
had  concluded  that  he  had  sat  quiet  long 
enough,  and  slipping  off  his  stone,  he  had 
scrambled  up  the  bank  and  walked  upon  the 
bridge.  About  the  centre  of  this  he  found  a 
broken  place  in  the  railing  through  which  he 
put  the  stick  and  line  with  which  he  was 
playing  to  fish.  Putting  his  head  through 
after  it,  he  saw  that  it  did  not  touch  the  water 
and  that  just  in  front  of  him  was  the  project- 
ing end  of  one  of  the  logs.  Here,  he  thought, 
he  could  fish  better,  and  slipping  through,  he 


Nurse  taken  by  Surprise.  291 

was  now  where  Miss  Adams  told  nurse  to  look 
at  him,  stooping  over,  with  one  fat  hand  grasp- 
ing the  railing  and  with  the  other  trying  to 
make  his  line  touch  the  water.  The  bridge 
was  four  or  five  feet  above  the  stream,  and  al- 
though a  fall  from  it  might  not  have  been  very 
dangerous  for  a  grown  person,  a  little  child 
like  Franky  might  easily  have  been  swept 
away  by  the  current,  which  was  deepest  and 
swiftest  where  he  was  standing. 

"  Don't  speak,"  said  Miss  Adams,  hastily,  and 
darting  round  to  the  other  side  of  the  bridge, 
she  walked  directly  into  the  water,  and  stoop- 
ing down,  passed  under  the  bridge  and  came 
out  iinder  the  spot  where  Franky  stood.  As 
she  had  expected,  the  moment  he  saw  her,  he 
started  and  fell,  but  Miss  Adams  was  ready 
for  him.  She  caught  him  in  her  arms,  waded 
through  the  water,  and  placed  him  safe  and 
dry  on  the  grass. 

"  Oh,  you  naughty  boy  !  "  said  nurse,  the 
moment  she  had  done  so,  "  what  am  I  to  do 
with  you  now  ?  " 


2Q2  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Nosin'  at  all ;  Frank/  dood  boy.  Didn't 
fall  in  water." 

"  And  whose  fault  is  that  I  should  like  to 
know,"  said  Miss  Adams,  laughing  and  shak- 
ing her  dripping  skirts,  "  you  little  monkey  ? 
I  do  not  know  but  I  should  have  done  better 
to  let  you  fall  into  the  water  and  be  well 
frightened  before  I  pulled  you  out." 

"  Franky  not  frightened  ;  Franky  orave  sol- 
dier," said  the  child. 

"  You're  a  mischievous  monkey,  sir,"  said 
the  young  lady. 

"  That  he  is,"  said  nurse,  speaking  in  a 
very  different  way  from  that  in  which  she  had 
spoken  before.  "  And  where  would  he  hara 
been  now  but  for  you  and  the  kind  Providence 
which  brought  you  here,  miss  ?  What  would  I 
have  done,  with  the  baby  in  my  arms  and  he 
standing  there  ?  I'd  never  have  thought  of 
catching  him  that  way.  It  was  right  cute  of 
you,  miss." 

"  I  saw  it  was  the  only  way,"  said  Miss 
Adams.  "  I  knew  he  would  be  off  that  slip- 
pery log  if  he  was  startled." 


Nurse  taken  by  Surprise.  293 

'I  thank  jou  again  and  again,  miss,"  said 
the  nurse,  "  and  so  will  his  mother;  there's 
your  beautiful  dress  all  spoiled." 

"  Oh  !  that's  nothing,"  said  Miss  Adams, 
giving  her  dress  another  shake  ;  "  it  was  good 
fun.  But  now,  when  I  have  saved  one  of  your 
chickens  from  a  ducking,  you  cannot  think  I 
would  hurt  the  other  if  you  let  me  have  her 
for  a  moment." 

"  Surely  I  will,"  said  nurse  ;  "  but  you  are 
not  going  to  stand  and  talk  in  such  a  pickle  as 
that  ?    You'll  catch  your  death  of  cold." 

"  No  fear,"  said  Miss  Adams,  "  I  am  tough. 
Come  now,  Bessie."  She  held  out  her  hand 
to  the  little  girl,  and  now  that  she  had  saved 
her  brother,  she  went  with  her  willingly.  She 
was  not  afraid  of  her  any  more,  though  she 
wondered  very  much  what  the  lady  could 
have  to  say  to  her  which  nurse  might  not  hear. 

"  You'll  excuse  me  for  speaking  as  I  did 
before,  miss,  but  I'm  an  old  woman,  and  cross 
sometimes,  and  then  you  see  —  "  Nurse  hes- 
itated. 


294  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Yes,  I  see.  I  know  I  deserved  it  all,"  said 
Miss  Adams,  and  then  she  led  Bessie  to  the 
other  side  of  the  road.  "  Suppose  I  lift  you 
up  here,  Bessie  ;  I  can  talk  to  you  better.'' 
She  lifted  her  up  and  seated  her  on  the  stone 
wall  which  ran  along  the  road. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  leaning  her  arms  upon 
the  wall,  "  I  want  to  ask  you  something." 

"  I  know  what  you  want  to  ask  me,"  said 
Bessie,  coloring. 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?  " 

"  You  want  me  to  say  I'm  sorry  'cause  I 
said  that  to  you  the  other  day,  and  I  am  sorry. 
Mamma  said  it  was  saucy.  But  I  didn't  mean 
to  be  saucy.  I  didn't  know  how  to  help  it, 
you  asked  me  so  much." 

"  You  need  not  be  sorry,  Bessie.  I  de- 
served it,  and  it  was  not  that  I  was  going  to 
speak  about.  I  wanted  to  ask  you  to  forgive 
me  for  being  so  unkind  to  you.     Will  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  ma'am  !  I  did  forgave  you  that 
day,  and  mamma  told  me  something  which 
made  me  very  sorry  for  you." 


Nurse  taken  by  Surprise.         295 

"  What  was  it  ?  Would  she  like  you  to  re- 
peat it  ?  " 

"  I  guess  she  wont  care.  She  said  your  fa- 
ther and  mother  died  when  you  were  a  little 
baby,  and  you  had  a  great  deal  of  money,  more 
than  was  good  for  you,  and  you  had  no  one 
to  tell  you  how  to  take  care  of  it ;  so  if  you  did 
things  you  ought  not  to,  we  ought  to  be  sorry 
for  you,  and  not  talk  much  about  them." 

Miss  Adams  stood  silent  a  moment,  and 
then  she  said,  slowly,  — 

"  Yes,  if  my  mother  had  lived,  Bessie,  I 
might  have  been  different.  I  suppose  I  do 
many  things  I  should  not  do  if  I  had  a  mother 
to  care  about  it ;  but  there  is  no  one  to  care, 
and  I  don't  know  why  I  should  myself.  I 
may  as  well  take  my  fun." 

"  Miss  Adams,"  said  Bessie,  "  hasn't  your 
mother  gone  to  heaven  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  said  the  young  lady, 
looking  a  little  startled, —  "  yes,  I  am  sure  of 
it.     They  say  she  was  a  good  woman." 

"  Then  don't  she  care  up  there  ? " 


296  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  I  don't  know.  They  say  heaven  is  a  happy 
place.  I  should  not  think  my  mother  could 
be  very  happy  even  there,  if  she  cared  about 
me  and  saw  me  now." 

"  Do  you  mean  she  wouldn't  like  to  see  you 
do  those  things  you  say  you  ought  not  to  do  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  do  things  that  will 
make  her  happy  ?  I  would  try  to,  if  my  moth- 
er went  to  heaven." 

"  What  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Bessie. 

"  1  suppose  you  would  not  pull  little  girls' 
hair,  or  tease  them,  or  behave  like  a  kitchen 
lady." 

"  Please  don't  speak  of  that  any  more," 
said  Bessie,  coloring. 

"  And  your  mother  thinks  I  have  too  much 
money ;  does  she  ?  Well,  I  do  not  know  but  I 
have,  if  having  more  than  I  know  what  to  do 
with  is  having  too  much." 

"  Why  don't  you  give  some  away  ?  "  Bessie 
asked. 


Nurse  taken  by  Surprise.         297 

"  I  do,  and  then  am  scolded  for  it.  I  drove 
down  the  other  day  to  take  some  to  those  ship- 
wrecked people,  and  the  next  day  Mr.  Howard 
came  to  me  with  his  long  face  and  told  me  T 
had  done  more  harm  than  good  ;  for  some  of 
them  had  been  drinking  with  the  money  I 
gave  them,  and  had  a  fight  and  no  end  of 
trouble.  That  is  always  the  way.  I  am  tired 
of  myself,  of  my  money,  and  everything  else." 

Bessie  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  this 
odd  young  lady,  who  was  talking  in  such  a 
strange  way  to  her,  but  she  could  not  help 
feeling  sorry  for  her  as  she  stood  leaning  on 
the  wall  with  a  tired,  disappointed  look  on 
her  face,  and  said  these  words  in  a  troubled 
voice. 

"  Miss  Adams,"  she  said,  "  why  don't  you 
ask  our  Father  in  heaven  to  give  you  some 
one  to  take  care  of  you  and  your  money,  and 
to  make  you  —  "     Bessie  stopped  short. 

"  Well,"  said  Miss  Adams,  smiling,  "  to 
make  me  what  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  you  would  not  like  me  to  say 


298  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

it,"  said  Bessie,  fidgeting  on  her  hard  seat, 
"  I  think  I  had  better  go  to  nurse." 

"  You  shall  go,  but  I  would  like  to  hear 
what  you  were  going  to  say.  To  make  me 
what  ? " 

"  To  make  you  behave  yourself,"  said  Bes- 
sie, gravely,  not  quite  sure  she  was  doing  right 
to  say  it. 

But  Miss  Adams  laughed  outright,  then 
looked  grave  again. 

"  There  are  plenty  of  people  would  like  to 
take  care  of  my  money,  Bessie,  and  there  are 
some  people  who  try,  or  think  they  try,  to 
make  me  behave  myself;  but  not  because  they 
care  for  me,  only  because  they  are  shocked  by 
the  things  I  do.  So  I  try  to  shock  them  more 
than  ever." 

Bessie  was  sure  this  was  not  right,  but  she 
did  not  like  to  tell  Miss  Adams  so. 

"  But  I  am  sorry  I  shocked  you,  Bessie,  and 
made  you  think  me  no  lady.  Now  tell  me 
that  you  forgive  me,  and  shake  hands  with  me. 
I  am  going  away  to-morrow,  and  may  never 
see  you  again." 


JSfurse  taken  by  Surprise.  299 

Bessie  put  her  little  hand  in  Miss  Adams', 
and  lifted  up  her  face  to  her. 

"  I'll  kiss  you  now,"  she  said,  "  and  I'm 
sorry  I  wouldn't  that  day." 

The  young  lady  looked  pleased,  and  stoop- 
ing, she  kissed  her  two  or  three  times,  then 
took  her  hand  to  lead  her  back  to  nurse. 
Nurse  was  just  rising  from  her  seat  and  look- 
ing anxiously  up  at  the  sky. 

"  There's  a  cloud  coming  over  the  sun,"  she 
said  ;  "  I'm  afraid  it  is  going  to  rain." 

"  I  expect  it  is,"  said  Miss  Adams  ;  "I  saw 
there  was  a  shower  coming  as  I  drove  down 
the  hill,  but  I  did  not  think  it  would  be  here 
for  some  time  yet." 

Just  then  the  boys  and  Jane  came  running 
up  to  them,  Jane  carrying  Maggie  in  her 
arms. 

"Oh,  nursey  !  "  called  Maggie,  "  it's  going 
to  gust.  We  thought  you  would  be  gone 
home.  Why,  there's  Miss  Adams  !  "  —  and 
Maggie  stopped.  Not  only  she,  but  all  the 
rest  of  the  party  were  very  much  surprised  to 


300  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

see  Miss  Adams  standing  there,  and  seeming 
so  friendly  with  Bessie  and  nurse.  But  there 
was  no  time  to  say  anything. 

There  was  indeed  a  gust  coming.  The 
edge  of  a  black  cloud  was  just  showing  itself 
over  the  woods  which  had  hidden  it  till  now 
from  nurse. 

"  Make  haste !  "  cried  Harry  ;  "  I  never  saw 
a  cloud  come  up  so  fast." 

"  Quick,  nurse  !  "  said  Miss  Adams ;  "jump 
into  the  pony  carriage  with  the  little  ones,  and 
we  will  be  home  in  less  than  no  time.  Quick, 
now  !  " 

Nurse  made  no  obj  ections  now  to  the  "  gim- 
crack."  She  thought  of  nothing  but  how  to 
get  her  babies  home  before  the  storm  should 
overtake  them.  She  bundled  into  the  car- 
riage with  baby,  while  Miss  Adams,  laughing 
as  if  she  enjoyed  the  fun,  packed  in  Maggie, 
Bessie,  and  Franky  beside  her.  "  Hurry  up, 
now,  Tip!  "  she  said  to  the  groom,  and  giving 
the  ponies  a  crack  with  her  whip,  away  they 
dashed  down  the  road. 


JVzirse  taken  by  Surprise.         301 

"  Now,  boys,  try  if  we  can  outrun  the 
clouds.  See  who'll  be  first  at  the  bend  in  the 
road.  One,  two,  three,  and  away  !  "  and  off 
she  went,  with  Fred  and  Harry  after  her, 
while  Jane  stood  still  for  a  moment  in  amaze- 
ment at  the  pranks  of  this  strange  young  lady, 
and  then  followed  as  fast  as  her  feet  could 
carry  her. 

Meanwhile,  on  went  the  carriage  with  its 
precious  load,  nurse,  as  soon  as  they  were 
fairly  started,  wishing  they  were  all  out  again, 
and  every  minute  begging  Tip  to  drive  care- 
fully, and  not  upset  them,  to  which  he  did  not 
pay  the  least  attention.  But  they  reached 
home  without  accident,  and  found  papa  and 
Uncle  John  setting  out  to  meet  them. 

It  was  growing  very  dark  now.  The  black 
cloud  had  covered  nearly  the  whole  sky,  and  a 
white  line  was  moving  swiftly  along  the  water, 
showing  that  a  furious  wind  was  sweeping  over 
the  waves.  In  another  minute  they  were  in 
the  house,  and  right  glad  was  the  anxious 
mother  to  see  her  little  ones. 


302  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  But  where  are  Harry  and  Fred  ?  "  she  said ; 
"  and  how  came  you  home  in  that  ?  "  looking 
at  the  carriage. 

"  Miss  Adams  sent  us,"  said  Maggie,  "  and 
the  boys  are  coming  with  her." 

"  And  she  didn't  let  him  fall  in,  mamma," 
said  Bessie,  "  and  she  is  all  wet.  But  she 
only  laughed.  She's  been  talking  to  me,  and 
I  was  sorry  for  her,  and  she's  sorry  'cause  she 
pulled  my  hair.  I  kissed  her,  so  we  are 
friends  now." 

"  Miss  Adams  !  "  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  in  great 
surprise. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  Miss  Adams,"  said  nurse,  giv- 
ing baby  to  her  mother,  "  and  surely  I  think 
she's  turned  over  a  new  leaf.  She's  been 
talking  to  Bessie  as  tame  as  a  lamb,  and  mak- 
ing friends  with  her,  and  that  after  me  giving 
her  a  piece  of  my  mind.  And  she  saved  that 
boy  there  (oh,  you  naughty  fellow !)  from 
drowning ;  for  what  could  I  have  done  ?  " 

"  Saved  my  boy  from  drowning  !  "  said  Mrs. 
Bradford,  turning  pale. 


Nurse  taken  by  Surprise.         303 

Then  nurse  told  how  Miss  Adams'  pres- 
ence of  mind  had  saved  Franky  from  a  fall, 
and  probably  from  being  carried  away  and 
drowned.  Just  as  she  finished  her  story,  the 
young  lady  and  the  boys  came  up. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bradford  went  out  on  the  piaz- 
za, to  meet  Miss  Adams,  but  she  did  not  mean 
to  come  in,  nor  could  she  be  persuaded  to  do 
so,  though  the  large  drops  of  rain  were  begin- 
ning to  plash  heavily  down  ;  nor  would  she 
listen  to  any  thanks  from  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  But  you  are  heated  with  your  run,"  said 
Mrs.  Bradford,  "  come  in  and  have  some  dry 
clothes.  You  will  be  drenched  in  this  pour 
ing  rain,  and  will  take  cold." 

"  No  fear,"  said  Miss  Adams,  laughing. 
"  The  second  wetting  will  do  me  no  harm ; 
nothing  ever  hurts  me.  Good-by.  Good-by, 
dear  little  Bessie."  She  stooped  to  kiss  her, 
and  running  down  the  bank,  snatched  the 
reins  from  the  groom,  jumped  into  the  car- 
riage, and  kissing  her  hand,  drove  away  through 
all  the  rain. 


304  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

"  Strange,  wild  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford, 
with  a  sigh,  as  she  turned  into  the  house. 

"  But  there  must  be  some  good  in  her,  mam- 
ma, when  she  gave  up  her  carriage  to  the 
children,  and  walked  or  rather  ran  all  the 
way  here,"  said  Harry ;  "  and  she  didn't  seem 
to  think  she'd  done  anything  at  all.  How 
she  did  scud  though!  I  don't  like  to  see  a 
woman  act  the  way  she  does,  and  I  can't  quite 
forgive  her  about  Carlo  and  Bessie ;  but  I  do 
think  there's  some  good  in  her." 

"  Ah,  Harry,"  said  his  mother.  "  There  is 
some  good  in  every  one,  if  we  only  knew 
how  to  find  it." 


XXI. 

THE   COLONEL   IN   TROUBLE. 


ESSIE,"  said  Harry,  as  the  children 
were  at  their  supper,  and  he  saw  his 
little  sister  sitting  with  her  spoon  in 
her  hand  and  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  table  as  if 
she  had  forgotten  the  bread  and  butter  and 
berries  before  her,  —  "  Bessie,  what  are  you 
thinking  of." 

"  Of  Miss  Adams,"  said  the  little  girl. 
"  Nurse  said  she  was  talking  to  you  ever  so 
long,"  said  Fred  ;  "  what  was  she  saying  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  she  meant  me  to  talk  about 
it,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  she  didn't  want  nurse  to 
hear,  and  so  I  shall  only  tell  mamma  and 
Maggie.  You  know  I  must  tell  mamma 
everything,  and  I  couldn't  help  telling  my 
own  Maggie." 

"  She  is  a  queer  dick,"  said  Fred,  "  pulling 
your  hair,  and  tormenting   you   out  of  your 
20 


306  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

life  one  time,  and  telling  you  secrets  another. 
The  idea  of  a  grown  woman  telling  secrets  to 
a  little  snip  like  you  !  " 

"  No  snip  about  it ! "  said  Maggie  ;  "  and  if 
I  was  everybody,  I'd  tell  Bessie  every  one  of 
my  secrets." 

"  That's  right,  Maggie.  You  always  stand 
up  for  Bessie  and  fight  her  battles ;  don't 
you  ?  " 

"  But,  Bessie,"  said  Harry,  "  did  Miss  Ad- 
ams tell  you  you  mustn't  repeat  what  she 
said  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Then  there's  no  harm  in  telling." 

"  Oh,  Harry  !  "  said  Fred.  "  If  Bessie  knows 
Miss  Adams  don't  want  her  to  talk  about  it, 
she  ought  not  to  tell  any  more  than  if  she  had 
promised  ;  ought  she,  father  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Mr.  Bradford  ;  "  \\ 
would  be  unkind  as  well  as  dishonorable." 

"Yes,"  said  Maggie;  "it  is  not  to  do  tc 
others  as  I  would  that  they  should  do  to  me." 

"  Exactly,    little  woman,"  said  her  father, 


The   Colonel  in   Trouble.    •      307 

"  and  remember,  dear  children,  that  is  a  very 
safe  rule  to  be  guided  by,  when  we  do  not 
feel  sure  whether  a  thing  is  fair  or  not." 

"  Bessie,"  said  Fred,  "  tell  us  what  ails  the 
colonel.  I  suppose  you  know,  for  all  the 
grown-uppers  seem  to  be  telling  you  their 
secrets." 

"  Why,  that's  not  a  secret !  His  leg  is  cut 
off." 

"  Don't  think  I  don't  know  that.  I  mean, 
what  makes  him  so  grumpy  ?  He  isn't  like 
the  same  fellow  he  was  when  he  first  came 
down  here." 

"  Fred,"  said  Bessie,  giving  him  a  reprov- 
ing look,  "  you're  not  polite  at  all  to  talk  that 
way  about  my  soldier.  He's  not  a  fellow, 
only  boys  are  fellows,  and  lie's  a  big  gentle- 
man. And  he's  not  that  other  thing  you 
called  him,  —  I  sha'n't  say  it,  because  it  is  a 
very  ugly  word." 

"  And  it's  saucy  to  say  it  about  the  col- 
onel," said  Maggie. 

"  I  don't  care,"    said    Fred.      "  It's   true  ; 


308  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

isn't  it,  Hal  ?  He  used  to  be  the  best  com- 
pany in  the  world,  —  always  ready  to  tell  us 
boys  stories  by  the  hour,  and  full  of  his  fun  and 
jokes.  But  for  the  last  few  days  he  has  been 
as  solemn  as  an  owl,  with  no  fun  to  be  had 
out  of  him,  and  if  one  can  get  him  to  talk,  it 
always  seems  as  if  he  were  thinking  of  some- 
thing else.  He's  as  cross  as  a  bear  too. 
Now  don't  fire  up,  Bess ;  it's  so.  Starr,  his 
man,  says  he  was  never  half  so  impatient  or 
hard  to  please  all  the  time  he  was  sick  as  lie 
has  been  for  the  last  ten  days." 

"  Fred,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  you  should 
not  talk  to  a  servant  of  his  master's  faults." 

"He  didn't,  mother,"  said  Harry,  —  "at 
least,  not  in  a  way  you  would  think  wrong. 
The  colonel  was  dreadfully  dull  and  out  of  sorts 
the  other  day,  though  he  declared  that  nothing 
ailed  him,  and  seemed  quite  provoked  that  we 
should  ask,  though  any  one  could  see  with 
half  an  eye  that  something  was  the  matter. 
Starr  was  hanging  round,  bringing  him  this 
and  that,  books  and  newspapers,  coaxing  him 


The   Colonel  in   Trouble.  309 

to  have  something  to  eat  01-  drink.  At  last  he 
asked  him  if  there  was  nothing  he  could  do 
for  him,  and  the  colonel  thundered  at  him 
and  said,  '  Yes,  leave  me  alone.'  Then  he 
got  himself  up  on  his  crutches  and  went  off, 
and  would  not  let  Starr  help  him.  The  man 
looked  as  if  he  had  lost  every  friend  he  had 
in  the  world.  So  Fred  told  him  he  didn't  be- 
lieve the  colonel  meant  anything.  Starr  said 
he  was  sure  he  did  not,  for  he  was  the  best 
master  that  ever  lived.  But  he  was  troubled 
about  it,  for  he  was  sure  that  something  was 
wrong  with  him.  Fred  said  perhaps  his 
wounds  pained  him  worse  ;  but  Starr  said  no, 
the  wounds  were  doing  nicely,  and  the  colo- 
nel was  not  a  man  to  make  a  fuss  about 
them  if  they  did  pain  him,  for  all  the  time 
he  was  suffering  so  dreadfully  that  no  one 
thought  he  could  live,  he  never  heard  a  com- 
plaint or  a  groan  from  him.  And  it  was  then 
he  said  the  colonel  was  far  harder  to  please, 
and  more  impatient  than  when  he  was  so  ill." 
'*  Maybe  lie  wants  to  get  back  to  his  regi- 
ment," said  Fred 


310  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  No,  it  is  not  that,  —  at  least,  Mrs.  Rush 
says  it  is  not ;  for  this  morning,  when  I  was 
standing  in  the  hall,  the  doctor  came  out  of  the 
room  with  Mrs.  Rush,  and  he  said  her  husband 
had  something  on  his  mind,  and  asked  if  he 
were  fretting  to  be  with  his  regiment.  And 
she  said,  '  Oh,  no,  the  colonel  never  frets 
himself  about  that  which  cannot  be.'  " 

"  Didn't  she  tell  him  what  it  was  ?  "  asked 
Fred. 

"No,  but  I  guess  she,  too,  thinks  there's 
something  wrong  with  him,  for  the  doctor  told 
her  she  must  not  let  anything  worry  him,  and 
she  did  not  say  a  word.  And  when  he  went, 
and  she  turned  to  go  back  to  her  room,  her 
face  was  so  very  sad." 

"  She's  just  the  sweetest  little  woman  that 
ever  was  made,"  said  Fred,  who  was  a  great 
admirer  of  Mrs.  Rush,  "  and  I  don't  know 
what  he  can  have  to  make  him  fret.  I  should 
think  he  had  everything  a  man  could  want." 

"  Except  the  one  great  thing,"  said  Grand 
papa  Duncan,  in  a  low  voice  to  himself. 


The  Colonel  in    Trouble.  311 

Mr.  Bradford,  who  had  been  listening  to 
what  his  children  were  saying,  but  had  not 
spoken,  now  walked  out  on  the  piazza,  where 
he  stood  watching  the  clearing  away  of  the 
storm.  In  a  moment  or  two  Bessie  followed 
him,  and  silently  held  out  her  arms  to  him  to 
be  taken  up. 

"  Papa,"  she  said,  as  he  lifted  her,  "  do  yott 
think  my  soldier  has  a  trouble  in  his  mind  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  has." 

"  Wont  you  help  him,  papa? "  said  Bessie, 
who,  like  most  little  children,  thought  her 
father  able  to  help  and  comfort  every  one. 

"  I  could  only  show  him  where  he  could 
find  help,  my  darling,  and  I  do  not  think  he 
cares  to  have  me  tell  him." 

"  Then  is  there  no  one  that  can  help  him, 
papa  ?  " 

"  Yes,  there  is  One  who  can  give  him  all 
the  help  he  needs." 

"  You  mean  the  One  who  lives  up  there  ?  " 
said  Bessie,  pointing  to  the  sky. 

"  Yes.     Will  my  Bessie  pray  that  her  friend 


312  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

may  receive  all  the  help  he  needs  from  that 
great  merciful  Father?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  papa,  and  you'll  ask  him,  and  my 
soldier  will  ask  him,  and  he'll  he  sure  to  lis- 
ten ;  wont  he  ?  " 

Mr.  Bradford  did  not  tell  his  little  girl  that 
the  colonel  would  not  ask  such  aid  for  himself ; 
he  only  kissed  her  and  carried  her  in.  Bessie 
did  not  forget  her  friend  that  night  when  she 
said  her  evening  prayers. 

Maggie  and  Bessie  went  over  to  the  hotel 
the  next  morning  with  their  mother.  After 
making  a  visit  to  their  grandma,  they  thought 
they  would  go  to  see  the  colonel,  so  they  ran 
away  to  his  room.  Mrs.  Rush  was  there  busy, 
and  she  told  them  the  colonel  was  out  on  the 
piazza.  He  was  reading  the  newspaper,  but 
threw  it  down  when  they  came,  and  was  very 
glad  to  see  them.  Bessie  looked  at  him  ear- 
nestly, to  see  if  she  could  see  any  signs  of 
trouble  about  him.  But  he  seemed  much  as 
usual,  laughing  and  talking  pleasantly  with 
them.     But  she  could  not  forget  what  Harry 


The   Colonel  in    Trouble.  313 

had  said,  and  she  turned  her  eyes  so  often 
upon  him  with  a  questioning  look  that  he  no- 
ticed it,  and  said,  "  Well,  my  pet,  what  is  it  ? 
What  do  you  want  to  know  ?  " 

"  Does  something  trouble  you  ? "  asked 
Bessie. 

"  Trouble  me  !  "  he  repeated.  "  What 
should  trouble  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered  ;  "  but  I 
thought  maybe  something  did." 

"  What  have  I  to  trouble  me  ? "  he  again 
asked,  carelessly.  "  Have  I  not  the  dearest  lit- 
tle wife  and  two  of  the  dearest  little  friends  in 
the  world,  as  well  as  pretty  much  everything 
else  a  reasonable  man  could  want  ?  To  be 
sure,  another  leg  would  be  a  convenience,  but 
that  is  a  small  matter,  and  we  will  see  what 
Palmer  can  do  for  me  one  of  these  days ; 
he  will  make  me  as  good  as  new  again." 

Bessie  was  not  quite  satisfied.  Though  the 
colonel  spoke  so  gayly,  she  felt  sure  there  had 
been  something  wrong,  if  there  was  not  now. 
She  still  watched  him  wistfully,  and  the  colo- 


314  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

nel,  looking  into  her  loving  eyes,  said,  "  If  I 
were  in  any  trouble,  you  would  help  me  out  of 
it,  Bessie  ;  would  you  not?  " 

"  If  I  could,"  she  answered  ;  "  but  I  couldn't 
do  very  much,  I'm  too  little.  But  we  know 
who  can  help  us  ;  don't  we  ?  and  we  can  tell 
Him.  Mamma  has  a  book  named  '  Go  and  tell 
Jesus.'  Aint  that  a  pretty  name  ?  I  asked 
her  to  read  it  to  me,  and  she  said  I  couldn't 
understand  it  now.  When  I  am  older,  she 
will ;  but  I  can  understand  the  name,  and  I 
like  to  think  about  it  when  I  have  been 
naughty  or  have  a  trouble." 

"  May  your  troubles  never  be  worse  than 
they  are  now,  little  one,"  said  the  colonel 
fondly,  with  a  smile  ;  "  and  one  of  your  troubles 
is  done  with,  Bessie.  Do  you  know  that 
your  enemy,  Miss  Adams,  is  gone  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she  is  not  my  enemy  any  more,"  said 
Bessie  ;  "we  are  friends  now,  and  I  am  glad  of 
it,  for  I  don't  like  to  be  enemies  with  people." 

"Ho,  ho!"  said  the  colonel.  "  How  did 
that  come  about  ?    I  thought  she  wanted  to 


The   Colonel  in    Trouble.  315 

make  it  up  with  you,  but  I  did  not  see  how  it 
was  to  come  about  when  you  were  off  like  a 
lamp-lighter  every  time  she  came  near  you." 

Then  Bessie  told  how  Miss  Adams'  presence 
of  mind  had  saved  Franky  from  falling  into 
the  stream, "  And  then  we  talked  a  little,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  told  her  I  was  sorry  I  had  been 
saucy,  and  kissed  her,  and  so  we  are  all 
made  up." 

"  That  was  the  way ;  was  it  ?  "  said  the 
colonel.  "  I  do  not  think  you  were  the  one 
.0  ask  pardon." 

"  Oh,  she  did  too,"  said  Bessie ;  "  she  said 
she  was  sorry  she  teased  me." 

"  And  what  else  did  she  say  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  she  meant  me  to  talk  about 
it,  'cause  she  didn't  want  nurse  to  hear." 

"  Then  I  wont  ask  you,  honorable  little 
woman." 

"  And  she  sent  us  home  in  the  pony-car- 
riage when  the  rain  was  coming,  and  ran  all 
the  way  to  our  house  herself,  and  mamma  was 
very  much  obliged  to  her,"  said  Maggie. 


316  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  Well,"  said  the  colonel,  "  I  suppose  I  shall 
have  to  forgive  her  too,  since  she  saved  you 
from  a  wetting,  and  took  a  bad  cold  in  your 
service.  We  all  wondered  how  she  came  to 
be  so  drenched,  but  she  would  not  tell  us  how 
it  happened." 

"  Did  she  take  cold  ?  "  asked  Maggie. 
"  Mamma  said  she  would,  but  she  said  noth- 
ing ever  hurt  her." 

"  Something  has  hurt  her  this  time.  They 
say  she  was  really  ill  when  she  went  away  this 
morning,  and  some  of  the  ladies  tried  to  per- 
suade her  to  wait  until  she  was  better.  But 
go  she  would,  and  go  she  did.  Here  comes 
Mrs.  Rush  to  take  me  for  a  walk.  Will  you 
go  with  us  ?  " 

The  children  were  quite  ready,  and,  mam- 
ma's permission  gained,  they  went  off  with 
their  friends. 

But  although  this  was  the  last  they  saw  of 
Miss  Adams,  it  was  not  the  last  they  heard  of 
her.  Mrs.  Bradford  was  right.  Miss  Adams 
had  been  wet  to  the  knees  in  the  brook,  and 


The   Colonel  in    Trouble.  317 

much  heated  by  her  long  run  ;  and  then  again 
thoroughly  drenched  in  the  rain,  and  when 
she  reached  home,  the  foolish  girl,  for  the 
sake  of  making  people  wonder  at  her,  would 
not  change  her  clothes.  She  took  a  violent 
cold,  but,  as  the  colonel  had  said,  insisted  on 
travelling  the  next  morning,  and  went  on  till 
she  was  so  ill  that  she  was  forced  to  give  up. 
She  had  a  long  illness,  from  which  it  was 
thought  she  would  never  recover,  but  she 
afterwards  said  that  this  was  the  happiest 
thing  that  had  ever  happened  to  her  in  her  life. 
Sometime  after  this,  about  Christmas  time, 
came  a  letter  and  a  little  parcel  to  Bessie. 
The  letter  said,  — 

"  My  dear  Little  Bessie,  — 

"  Tell  your  mother  I  scorned  her  advice  the 
day  we  were  caught  in  the  rain,  and  paid  well 
for  my  folly,  for  I  was  very  ill ;  but  there  was 
a  good,  kind  doctor,  who  came  and  cured  me, 
and  now  he  is  going  to  '  take  care  of  me  and 
my  money,  and  make  me  behave  myself.'     He 


318  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

thinks  he  can  make  the  ;  kitchen  lady  '  less  of 
a  mad-cap  ;  but  I  do  not  know  but  that  my 
long  illness  has  done  that  already.  While  I 
lay  sick,  I  had  time  to  think,  and  to  feel  sorry 
that  I  had  acted  so  wildly  and  foolishly  as  to 
leave  myself  without  a  true  friend  in  the 
world.  I  shall  never  forget  you,  Bessie,  and  I 
hope  you  will  sometimes  think  kindly  of  me, 
and  that  you  may  do  so,  will  you  ask  your 
mother  to  let  you  wear  this  bracelet  in  remem- 
brance of  Clara  Adams." 

The  little  parcel  contained  a  very  beautiful 
and  expensive  bracelet  with  a  clasp  which 
made  it  smaller  or  larger,  according  to  the  size 
of  the  arm  of  the  wearer. 

But  Mrs.  Bradford  did  not  think  it  a  suita- 
ble thing  for  her  little  girl,  and  she  told  Bes- 
sie she  should  put  it  away  till  she  was  grown 
up. 

"  I  sha'n't  wear  it  then,  mamma,"  said  Bes- 
sie ;  "  she  never  sent  Maggie  one,  and  I  don't 
want  to  wear  what  she  don't.     We  can  both 


The  Colonel  in   Trouble.  319 

look  at  it  sometimes,  and  then  we  can  both 
think  of  Miss  Adams :  but  we  can't  both  wear 
it,  and  we  don't  want  to  be  dressed  different 
alike." 


xxi  r. 

THE  BROKEN  NOSE. 

HERE  comes  mamma  with  Mamie 
Stone,"  said  Maggie,  as  they  were 
going  back  to  the  hotel  with  Colonel 
and  Mrs.  Rush. 

When  Mamie  saw  the  little  girls,  she  ran  to 
meet  them,  saying  she  was  going  home  to 
spend  the  morning  with  them  ;  and  Mrs. 
Bradford  took  them  all  back  with  her.  While 
Maggie  and  Bessie  said  their  lessons,  Mamie 
amused  herself  with  Franky  and  Nellie  and 
the  baby  ;  and  she  was  delighted  when  nurse 
made  her  sit  down  on  the  floor,  and  putting 
the  baby  in  her  lap,  let  her  hold  her  for  a  few 
minutes.  Afterwards  they  all  had  a  good 
play  together,  a  doll's  tea-party,  and  a  fine 
swing. 

Mamie  stayed  to  dinner,  and  was  very  good 
all   day  ;    and   very   soon   after   dinner,   Mr. 


The  Broken  Nose.  321 

Stone  came  to  take  his  daughter  home.  He 
was  a  grave,  serious  man,  and  it  was  rather 
unusual  to  see  him  with  such  a  bright  smile, 
and  looking  so  happy.  He  said  a  few  words 
in  a  low  tone  to  Mrs.  Bradford  and  Mrs.  Dun- 
can, and  they  seemed  pleased  too,  and  shook 
hands  with  him. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  something 
Mrs.  Bradford  said  to  him,  "  I  am  glad  of  it ; 
it  is  the  best  thing  in  the  world  for  Mamie." 

"  What  is  it,  papa  ?  "  said  Mamie,  springing 
forward  ;  "  have  you  got  something  for  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  "  Will  you  come 
home  and  see  it  ?  " 

"  What  is  it,  —  a  new  toy  ?  " 

"  The  very  prettiest  plaything  you  ever  had 
in  your  life,"  he  answered,  with  a  smile. 

Mamie  clapped  her  hands.  "  Can  Maggie 
and  Bessie  come  too  ?  "  she  asked,  turning  to 
Mrs.  Bradford. 

"Not  to-day,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "but 
they  shall  come  soon." 

Mamie  went  away  with  her  father,  while 
21 


322  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Maggie  and  Bessie  stood  and  watched  her  as 
she  went  skipping  along  by  his  side,  looking 
very  happy  and  eager. 

But  when  an  hour  or  two  later  they  went 
down  on  the  beach  and  found  Mamie,  she 
seemed  anything  but  happy.  Indeed,  she 
looked  as  if  nothing  pleasant  had  ever  hap- 
pened to  her  in  her  life.  She  was  sitting  on  a 
stone,  the  marks  of  tears  all  over  her  cheeks 
and  now  and  then  giving  a  loud,  hard  sob.  It 
was  more  than  sulkiness  or  ill-humor  ;  any  one 
who  looked  at  the  child  could  see  that  she 
was  really  unhappy.  Martha,  her  nurse,  was 
sitting  a  little  way  off  knitting,  and  not  tak- 
ing the  least  notice  of  her. 

Maggie  and  Bessie  ran  up  to  her.  "  What 
is  the  matter,  Mamie  ?  "  asked  Maggie. 

"  My  nose  is  broken,"  sobbed  Mamie,  "  and 
my  father  and  mother  don't  love  me  any 
more." 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  Maggie,  paying  attention 
only  to  the  first  part  of  Mamie's  speech,  "  how 
did  it  get  broken  ?  " 


The  Broken  Nose.  323 

"  Baby  did  it." 

"  What  baby  ?     Not  ours  ?  " 

"  No,  an  ugly,  hateful  little  baby  that's  in 
my  mother's  room." 

"How  did  it  doit?" 

"  I  don't  know  ;  but  Martha  says  it  did,  and 
she  says  that's  the  reason  my  papa  and  mam- 
ma don't  love  me  any  more." 

"  Don't  they  love  you  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  No,  they  don't,"  said  Mamie,  passionately. 
"  Mamma  tried  to  push  me  away,  and  papa 
scolded  me  and  took  me  out  of  the  room.  He 
never  scolded  me  before,  and  lie  was  so  angry, 
and  it's  all  for  that  hateful  little  baby.  Oh, 
dear,  oh,  dear  !  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  Wasn't  you  naughty  ? "  asked  Maggie. 

"  I  sha'n't  tell  you,"  said  Mamie. 

"  Then  I  know  you  was.  If  you  hadn't 
been,  you'd  say,  '  No ! '" 

Mamie  did  not  answer.  Bessie  walked 
round  her,  looking  at  her  nose,  first  on  one 
side,  then  on  the  other. 

"  I  don't  see  whore  it's  broken,"  she  said. 
M  It  looks  very  good      Will  it  blow  now  ?  " 


324  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mamie.  "  I'm  afraid 
to  try.     Oh,  dear!  " 

"  Does  it  hurt  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  No,  not  much  ;  but  I  expect  it's  going  to." 

"  Maybe  we  can  feel  where  it's  broken," 
said  Maggie.     "  Let's  squeeze  it  a  little." 

"  I  wont  let  you,"  said  Mamie.  "  But  I'll 
let  Bessie,  'cause  she's  so  softly." 

Bessie  squeezed  the  nose,  first  very  gently, 
then  a  little  harder,  but  it  seemed  all  right, 
and  felt  just  as  a  nose  ought  to  feel.  Then 
Mamie  let  Maggie  squeeze ;  but  she  pinched 
harder  than  Bessie  had  done,  and  hurt  it  a 
little. 

"  Oh,  you  hurt !  Go  away  !  "  said  Mamie, 
and  set  up  an  angry  cry. 

Martha,  who  had  been  talking  to  Jane,  rose 
at  this.  "  Come,  now,"  she  said,  "just  have 
done  with  this.  I  wont  have  any  more  cry- 
ing, you  bad  child." 

"  Go  away  1 "  screamed  Mamie,  as  Martha 
came  near  ;  "  you're  bad  yourself.  Oh,  I  want 
my  mamma !  " 


The  Broken  Nose.  325 

"  Your  mamma  don't  want  you  then,  lit- 
tle broken  nose.  Have  done  with  that  cry- 
ing." 

"  I'll  tell  mamma  of  you,"  said  Mamie. 

"  Oh,  yon  needn't  be  running  with  your 
tales  now.  Your  mamma  has  got  some  one 
else  to  attend  to." 

"  That's  a  shame,  Martha,"  said  Jane. 
"She's  just  teasing  you,  Miss  Mamie;  your 
mamma  does  care  for  you." 

"  Martha,"  said  Bessie,  "  I'm  glad  you're 
not  my  nurse ;  I  wouldn't  love  you  if  you 
were." 

"  There's  no  living  with  her.  She'll  be 
cured  of  her  spoiled  ways  now,"  said  Martha, 
as  she  tried  to  drag  the  struggling,  screaming 
child  away.  But  Mamie  would  not  stir  a  step. 
She  was  in  a  great  rage,  and  fought  and  kicked 
and  struck  Martha ;  but  just  then  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford  was  seen  coming  towards  them. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "   she  asked. 

"  She's  just  going  on  this  way  because  of 
the  baby,  ma'am,"  said  Martha. 


o 


26  Uessz'e  at  the  Sea-Side. 


"  Mamie,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  you  don't 
look  like  the  happy  little  girl  who  left  us  a 
short  time  ago." 

Mamie  stopped  screaming,  and  held  out  one 
ha  id  to  Mrs.  Bradford,  but  Martha  kept  fast 
hold  of  the  other,  and  tried  to  make  her  come 
away. 

"  Let  her  come  to  me,  Martha,"  said  the 
lady  ;  "  I  want  to  speak  to  her." 

Martha  looked  sulky,  but  sbe  let  go  of  Ma- 
mie, and  walked  away  muttering.  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford sat  down  on  the  rock  and  took  Mamie  on 
her  lap. 

"  Now,  Mamie,  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  she 
asked,  kindly.  "  I  thought  I  should  find  you 
so  pleasant  and  happy." 

"  My  nose  is  broken,"  sobbed  Mamie,  "  and 
oh,  dear  !  my  papa  and  mamma  don't  love  me 
any  more.  I  would  not  care  if  my  nose  was 
broken,  if  they  only  loved  me." 

"  They  do  love  you  just  as  much  as  they  ever 
did,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  and  your  nose  is  not 
broken.     How  should  it  come  to  be  broken  ?  " 


The  Broken  Nose.  327 

"  There's  an  ugly  baby  in  mamma's  room," 
said  Mamie.     "  The  bad  little  thing  did  it." 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !  "  said  Mrs.  Bradford, "  how 
could  such  a  little  thing  break  your  nose  ? 
Even  if  it  were  to  give  you  a  blow,  which  I 
am  sure  it  did  not,  that  tiny  fist  could  not 
hurt  you  much." 

"  Martha  said  it  did,"  said  Mamie. 

"  Then  Martha  told  you  what  was  not  true. 
That  is  a  very  foolish,  wicked  way  which  some 
people  have  of  telling  a  little  child  that  its 
nose  is  broken,  when  a  baby  brother  or  sister 
comes  to  share  its  parents'  love.  And  it  is 
quite  as  untrue  to  say  that  your  father  and 
mother  do  not  love  you  any  longer.  They 
love  you  just  as  much  as  they  ever  did,  and 
will  love  you  more  if  you  are  kind  to  the  baby, 
and  set  it  a  good  example." 

"But  I  don't  want  it  to  be  mamma's,"  said 
Mamie.  "  I'm  her  baby,  and  I  don't  want 
her  to  have  another." 

"  But  you  are  six  years  old,"  said  Mrs. 
Bradford.     "  You    surely  do   not  want  to  be 


32S  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

called  a  baby  now !  Why,  Franky  would  be 
quite  offended  if  any  one  called  him  a  baby. 
This  morning,  when  you  were  playing  with  my 
little  Annie,  you  said  you  did  wish  you  had  a 
baby  at  home,  to  play  with  all  the  time  ;  and 
now,  when  God  has  sent  you  the  very  thing 
you  wanted,  you  are  making  yourself  misera- 
ble about  it." 

"  But  it  isn't  a  nice,  pretty  baby  like 
yours,"  said  Mamie.  "  It  don't  play  and  crow 
like  little  Annie,  and  it  don't  love  me  either. 
It  made  a  face  and  rolled  up  its  fist  at  me." 

"Poor  little  thing!"  said  Mrs.  Bradford, 
"  it  did  not  know  any  better.  Such  very 
small  babies  do  not  know  how  to  play.  For 
some  time  this  little  sister  must  be  watched 
and  nursed  very  carefully  by  its  mother,  for  it 
is  weak  and  helpless ;  but  when  it  is  a  little 
older,  though  it  must  be  cared  for  still,  it  will 
begin  to  hold  up  its  head  and  take  notice,  and 
play  and  crow,  as  Annie  does.  Then  she  will 
know  you,  and  be  pleased  when  you  come,  if 
you  are  kind  to   her.      By  and  by  you  may 


The  Broken  Nose.  329 

help  to  teach  her  to  walk  and  talk.  Think 
what  a  pleasure  that  will  be !  The  first  words 
Franky  spoke  were  taught  to  him  by  Maggie, 
and  the  first  one  of  all  was  '  Mag.'  " 

Mamie  stopped  crying,  and  sat  leaning  her 
head  against  Mrs.  Bradford  as  she  listened. 

"  But  I  know  my  father  and  mother  don't 
love  me  so  much  now,"  she  said.  "  Mamma 
did  try  to  push  me  away,  and  papa  scolded  me 
so,  and  he  never  did  it  before." 

"  Then  I  am  sure  you  deserved  it.  I  am 
afraid  you  must  have  been  very  naughty. 
Now  tell  me  all  about  it,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford, 
smoothing  back  Mamie's  disordered  hair,  and 
wiping  her  heated,  tear-stained  face  with  her 
own  soft,  cool  handkerchief.  "  Perhaps  we 
can  cure  some  of  your  troubles  by  talking  a 
little  about  them.  When  your  father  came 
for  you  this  afternoon,  it  seemed  to  me  that 
half  his  own  pleasure  came  from  the  thought 
that  the  baby  was  to  bring  so  much  happiness 
to  you.  That  did  not  look  as  if  he  did  not 
love  you  ;  did  it  ?  " 


330  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  No,  but  he  was  angry  with  me." 

"  Tell  me  what  happened  after  you  went 
home  with  him  ?  " 

Mamie  put  her  finger  in  her  mouth  and 
hung  her  head,  but  after  a  moment  she  looked 
up  and  said,  — 

"  He  took  me  into  mamma's  room,  and 
there  was  a  woman  there  I  did  not  know,  and 
that  baby  was  in  the  bed  with  mamma." 

"  And  what  then  ?  " 

"  Mamma  told  me  to  come  and  see  my  dar- 
ling little  sister,  and  I  cried  and  said  I  would 
not  have  her  for  my  sister,  and  she  should  not 
stay  there.  And  papa  said  I  was  naughty, 
and  that  woman  said  she  would  not  have  such 
a  noise  there,  and  I  must  go  away  if  I  was 
not  quiet,  and  that  made  me  madder.  I 
wasn't  going  to  be  sent  out  of  my  own  mam- 
ma's room  for  that  baby.  If  she  was  its 
nurse,  she  could  take  it  away.  It  hadn't  any 
business  there,  and  then  —  then  —  " 

Mamie  was  beginning  to  feel  ashamed,  and 
to  see  that  the  most  of  her  trouble  came  from 
her  own  naughtiness. 


The  Broken  Nose.  331 

"  Well,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  gently, 
«  and  then  ?  " 

"  And  then  I  tried  to  pull  the  baby  away, 
and  I  tried  to  slap  the  bad  little  thing." 

"  Oh,  Mamie  !  "  exclaimed  Maggie  and  Bes- 
sie. 

"  That  was  the  reason  your  papa  was  angry  , 
was  it  not  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  Mamma  pushed  me  away, 
and  papa  carried  me  out  of  the  room,  and  oh, 
he  did  scold  me  so  !  He  called  Martha,  and 
told  her  to  take  me  away.  Then  she  said  my 
nose  was  broken,  and  papa  and  mamma  would 
not  love  me  any  more,  because  the  baby  had 
come.  Oh  !  I  would  be  good,  if  they  would 
let  me  go  back  to  mamma,  and  she  would 
love  me." 

"  She  does  love  you  just  as  much  as  ever. 
You  see,  my  child,  you  frightened  and  dis- 
turbed her  when  you  tried  to  hurt  that  tender 
little  baby.  She  cares  for  you  just  as  much 
as  she  did  before,  and  I  am  sure  she  is  griev- 
ing now  because  you  were  naughty,  and  had 


332  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

to  be  sent  away  from  her.  And  your  papa, 
too,  when  you  see  him,  only  tell  him  you 
mean  to  be  a  good  child,  and  kind  to  the  baby, 
and  you  will  find  you  are  still  his  own  little 
Mamie,  whom  he  loves  so  dearly,  and  for 
whose  comfort  and  pleasure  he  is  always  car- 
ing. I  am  sorry  Martha  has  told  you  such 
cruel,  wicked  stories.  There  is  not  a  word  of 
truth  in  them,  and  you  must  always  trust 
your  father  and  mother.  I  am  sure  your  dear 
little  sister  will  be  as  great  a  delight  to  you  as 
Annie  is  to  Maggie  and  Bessie,  and  that  you 
will  learn  to  love  her  dearly  ;  but  you  must  be 
kind  and  loving  yourself,  dear,  not  selfish  and 
jealous,  if  you  should  have  to  give  up  a  little 
to  baby.  It  was  jealousy  which  made  you  so 
unhappy.  Jealousy  is  a  wicked,  hateful  feel- 
ing, one  which  is  very  displeasing  in  the  sight 
of  God,  and  which  makes  the  person  who 
gives  way  to  it  very  miserable." 

"  It  was  Martha  who  made  her  jealous," 
said  Maggie.  "  Martha  is  a  very  bad  nurse 
she   is  not  fit  to  have   the   care   of  a   child. 


The  Broken  Nose.  333 

Nurse  said  so,  and  that  she  told  wicked  sto- 
ries ;  so  she  does,  for  I  have  heard  her  myself 
she  is  very  deceptions" 

"Well,"  said  her  mother,  "  I  hope  Mamie 
will  be  too  wise  to  mind  what  Martha  says 
after  this." 

"  I  will  try  to  be  good,"  said  Mamie,  "  and 
I  do  love  you,  Mrs.  Bradford.  Do  you  think, 
when  the  baby  is  older,  I  can  hold  her  on  my 
lap  like  1  did  Annie  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  a  doubt  of  it.  I  cannot  tell 
you  in  how  many  ways  she  will  be  a  pleasure 
to  you,  if  you  teach  her  to  be  fond  of  you, 
and  she  will  be,  as  your  father  said,  the  very 
prettiest  plaything  you  have  ever  had.  There 
comes  your  papa  now  ;  "  and  Mamie,  looking 
up,  saw  her  father  coming  towards  them. 

Mr.  Stone  looked  grave  and  troubled,  and 
turned  his  eyes  anxiously  towards  Mamie  as 
he  spoke  to  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  Here  is  a  little  girl  who  thinks  she  has  not 
behaved  well,  and  wishes  to  tell  you  so,"  said 
Mrs.  Bradford. 


334  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

Mr.  Stone  held  out  his  arms  to  Mamie,  and 
in  another  moment  she  was  clinging  round  his 
neck,  with  her  face  against  his. 

"  Oh,  I  will  be  good !     Will  you  please  love 


me  again 


V" 


"  Love  you  ?  and  who  ever  thought  of  not 
loving  you  ?  "  said  Mr.  Stone.  "  Poor  little 
woman,  you  did  not  think  your  father  would 
ever  cease  to  love  his  own  Mamie  ?  Not  if  a 
dozen  daughters  came.  No,  indeed,  my  pet ; 
and  now  do  you  not  want  to  go  and  see  your 
poor  mamma  again,  and  be  a  good,  quiet  girl  ? 
She  is  feeling  very  badly  about  you." 

So  Mamie  went  off  with  her  father,  feeling 
quite  satisfied  that  her  nose  was  as  good  as 
ever,  and  that  her  father  and  mother  loved 
her  just  as  much  as  they  had  done  before  the 
baby  came  to  claim  a  share  of  their  hearts. 


XXIII. 

JESUS'   SOLDIER. 

I1NE  warm,  bright  Sunday  morning, 
Mrs.  Rush  came  over  to  the  cottage. 
Old  Mr.  Duncan  was  sitting  on  the 
piazza  reading  to  the  children.  On  the  grass 
in  front  of  the  porch,  lay  Uncle  John,  playing 
with  Nellie.  She  shook  hands  with  the  gen- 
tlemen, and  kissed  the  children  —  Bessie  two 
or  three  times  with  long,  tender  kisses  —  and 
then  went  into  the  sitting-room  to  see  their 
mother.  There  was  no  one  there  but  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  Mrs.  Bradford,"  said  Mrs.  Rush,  when 
she  had  bidden  them  good-morning,  "  I  have 
come  to  ask  you  a  favor.  This  is  the  first 
Sunday  morning  since  we  have  been  here  that 
my  husband  has  been  able  and  willing  to  have 
ine  leave  him  to  go  to  church,  but  to-day  he 
is  pretty  well,  and  Mrs.  Stanton  has  offered 


336  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

ine  a  seat  in  her  carriage.  I  could  not  leave 
the  colonel  quite  alone,  and  he  wishes  to  have 
Bessie.  Will  you  let  ner  come  over  and  stay 
with  him  while  I  am  gone  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford.  "  I  do 
not,  as  you  know,  approve  of  Sunday  visiting 
for  my  children,  except  when  they  may  be  of 
some  use  or  comfort,  then,  indeed,  I  should 
never  hesitate  to  let  them  go." 

"  Bessie  can  indeed  be  of  use,  and  oh  !  I 
trust  a  help  and  comfort  to  him.  Dear  Mrs. 
Bradford,"  she  went  on,  the  tears  starting  to 
her  eyes,  "  I  think,  I  am  sure,  that  God's 
Spirit  is  striving  with  my  dear  husband,  and 
he  knows  not  where  to  look  for  help.  But  he 
has  so  long  hardened  his  heart,  so  firmly 
closed  his  ears  against  all  his  friends  could 
say  to  him,  so  coldly  refused  to  hear  one  word 
on  the  subject,  that  he  is  now  too  proud  to 
ask  where  he  must  seek  it.  I  am  sure,  quite 
sure,  that  it  has  been  your  dear  little  Bes- 
sie's unquestioning  faith,  her  love  and  trust 
in  the  power  and  goodness  of   the  Almighty 


Jesus'  Soldier.  337 

and,  more  than  all,  her  firm  belief  that  one  for 
whom  he  had  done  so  much,  and  preserved 
through  so  many  dangers,  must  of  necessity 
have  a  double  share  of  faith  and  love,  which 
has  touched  his  heart.  He  is  restless  and 
unhappy,  though  he  tries  to  hide  it,  and  I 
think  he  is  almost  anxious  to  have  me  away 
this  morning,  that  he  may  have  her  alone  with 
him,  in  the  hope  that  he  may  hear  something 
in  her  simple  talk  which  will  show  him  where 
to  go  for  aid.  He  will  hear  and  ask  from  her 
what  he  will  hear  and  ask  from  no  one  else." 

"  My  little  Bessie  !  That  baby  !  "  said  Mrs. 
Bradford,  in  great  surprise.  "  Do  you  mean  to 
tell  me  that  anything  she  has  said  has  had 
power  with  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Rush.  "  I  think  the 
first  thing  that  roused  him  was  one  day  when 
he  was  very  ill,  and  she  was  in  his  room.  She 
thought  him  asleep,  and  in  her  pretty,  child- 
ish way  spoke  of  the  love  she  thought  he  had 
for  his  Saviour,  and  how  he  had  been  spared 
that  he  might  love  and  serve  him   more  and 


338  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

more.  Horace  was  touched  then,  and  her 
words  took  hold  of  him  I  could  see,  though 
he  tried  to  seem  impatient  and  vexed,  and 
would  not  permit  me  to  allude  to  them.  So 
it  was  again  and  again.  She  was  always  say- 
ing some  little  thing  which  would  not  let 
him  forget  or  keep  his  heart  closed.  She  was 
so  fond  of  him,  so  pretty  and  sweet  in  all  her 
ways,  that  he  had  not  the  heart  to  check  her, 
even  when  it  annoyed  him.  And  besides,  I 
know  he  could  not  bear  that  her  trust  in  him 
should  be  shaken  by  the  knowledge  that  he 
was  not  what  she  thought  him,  —  a  Christian. 
Then  came  the  day  when  Bessie  fell  into  such 
trouble  with  Miss  Adams.  Annie  came  to 
our  room,  telling  of  it,  and  of  the  poor  child's 
touching  repentance.  Horace  sat  silent  for  a 
good  while  after  Annie  had  gone  away ;  at 
last  he  said,  '  Poor  innocent  little  lamb  !  and 
she  is  so  earnestly  seeking  forgiveness  for  the 
trifling  fault  which  is  far  more  the  sin  of  an- 
otner  than  her  own,  while  I  — '  There  he 
stopped,  and  indeed  it  seemed  as   if  he   had 


Jesus'  Soldier.  339 

been  speaking  more  to  himself  than  to  me. 
It  was  the  first  word  I  had  ever  heard  from 
him  which  showed  that  lie  was  allowing  the 
thought  of  his  own  need  of  forgiveness,  but  1 
dared  not  speak.  I  felt  that  that  baby  was 
doing  what  I  could  not  do.  The  tiny  grain  of 
mustard  seed  dropped  by  that  little  hand  had 
taken  root  on  a  hard  and  stony  ground,  it 
might  be ;  but  I  could  only  pray  that  the 
dews  of  heaven  might  fall  upon  it,  and  cause 
it  to  grow  and  bring  forth  fruit.  It  is  years,  I 
believe,  since  he  has  opened  a  Bible.  He 
made  me  move  mine  from  the  table,  for  he 
said  he  did  not  want  to  see  it  about.  I  have 
almost  feared  he  would  forbid  me  to  read  it, 
and  here  I  felt  I  must  resist  him.  Even  his 
wishes  or  commands  must  not  come  between 
me  and  the  precious  words  in  which  I  found 
so  much  comfort  and  strength.  But  the  other 
day  I  had  to  leave  him  alone  for  a  little  while. 
I  had  been  reading  my  Bible,  and  left  it  lying 
on  my  chair.  When  I  came  back,  it  lay  upon 
the   window-ledge.      There  had  been  no  one 


340  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

there  to  touch  it  but  my  husband,  and  ho 
must  have  left  his  seat  to  reach  it.  With 
what  purpose  ?  I  thought,  with  a  sudden  hope. 
Yesterday  it  was  the  same.  I  had  been  away 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  when  I  came  back,  the 
colonel  started  from  the  window  where  he 
was  standing,  and  walked  as  quickly  as  he 
could  to  his  sofa.  My  Bible  lay  where  I  had 
left  it,  but  a  mark  and  a  dried  flower  had  fall- 
en from  it.  1  was  sure  now.  He  had  been 
searching  within  for  something  which  might 
help  him,  but  was  still  unwilling  to  ask  for 
human  or  divine  guidance.  Since  then  I 
have  left  it  again  on  his  table,  but  he  has  not 
made  me  move  it,  as  he  would  have  done  a 
month  ago.  And  this  morning,  when  Mrs. 
Stanton  sent  for  me,  and  I  asked  him  if  he 
could  spare  me,  he  said  so  kindly,  but  so 
sadly,  — 

" '  Yes,  yes,  go.  1  fear  I  have  too  often 
thrown  difficulties  in  your  way,  poor  child ; 
but  I  shall  never  do  so  again.  Only,  Marion, 
do  not  leave  your  husband  too  far  behind.' 


Jesus"  Soldier.  34.1 

**  Then  I  said  I  would  not  leave  him,  but 
he  insisted,  and  went  back  to  his  careless 
manner,  and  said,  if  you  would  let  him,  lie 
would  have  Bessie  for  his  nurse  this  morning. 
I  said  I  would  ask,  but  he  had  better  let  Starr 
sit  in  the  room,  lest  he  should  want  anything 
she  could  not  do.  But  he  said  no,  he  would 
have  none  but  Bessie,  and  told  me  to  send 
Starr  at  once.  But  1  came  myself,  for  1 
wanted  to  tell  you  all  I  felt  and  hoped.  Now, 
if  Bessie  comes  to  him,  and  he  opens  the  way, 
as  he  may  with  her,  she  will  talk  to  him  in 
her  loving,  trusting  spirit,  and  perhaps  bring 
him  help  and  comfort." 

Mr.  Bradford  had  risen  from  his  seat,  and 
walked  up  and  down  the  room  as  she  talked. 
Now  he  stood  still,  and  said,  very  low  and 
gently,  "  And  a  little  child  shall  lead  them." 

When  Mrs.  Rush  had  gone,  Mrs.  Bradford 
called  Bessie.  "  Bessie  "  she  said,  taking  her 
little  daughter  in  her  arms  and  holding  her 
very  closely,  "  how  would  you  like  to  go  over 
and  take  care  of  your  soldier  this  morning,  and 
let  Mrs.  Rush  go  to  church  ?  " 


34 2  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

"  All  by  myself,  mamma  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear.  Do  you  think  you  will  be 
tired  ?  We  shall  be  gone  a  good  while.  It  is 
a  long  ride  to  church." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  wont  be  tired  a  bit,"  said  Bes 
sie,    "  and    I'll    take  such  good  care  of  him. 
Mamma,  are  you  sorry  about  something?" 

"  No,  dear,  only  very  glad  and  happy." 

"  Oh,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  thought  I  saw  a 
tear  in  your  eye  when  you  kissed  me ;  I 
s'pose  I  didn't." 

When  the  wagon  started  for  church  with 
the  rest  of  the  family,  Bessie  went  with  them 
as  far  as  the  hotel,  where  she  was  left,  and 
taken  to  the  colonel's  room  by  Mrs.  Rush. 

"  Now  what  shall  I  do  to  amuse  you,  Bes- 
sie ? "  said  the  colonel,  when  his  wife  had 
gone. 

"  Why,  I  don't  want  to  be  amused  on 
Sunday,"  said  Bessie,  looking  very  grave. 
"  Franky  has  his  playthings,  and  baby  has  her 
yattle,  'cause  they  don't  know  any  better.  I 
used  to  have  my  toys,  too,  when  I  was  young, 


ycs?is'  Soldier.  343 

but  I  am  too  big  now.  I  mean  I'm  not  "very 
big,  but  I  am  pretty  old,  and  I  do  know  bet- 
ter. Besides,  I  must  do  something  for  you. 
I  am  to  be  your  little  nurse  and  take  care 
of  you,  mamma  said." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  for  me  ?  " 

"  Just  what  you  want  me  to." 

"Well,  I  think  I  should  like  you  to  talk  to 
me  a  little." 

"What  shall  I  talk  about  ?  Shall  I  tell  you 
my  hymn  for  to-day  ?  " 

*'  Yes,  if  you  like." 

"  Every  day  mamma  teaches  us  a  verse  of  a 
hymn,"  said  Bessie,  "  till  we  know  it  all,  and 
then  on  Sunday  we  say  it  to  papa.  I'll  say  the 
one  for  this  week,  to-night ;  but  first  I'll  say  it 
to  you.  It's  such  a  pretty  one.  Sometimes 
mamma  chooses  our  hymns,  and  sometimes 
she  lets  us  choose  them,  but  I  choosed  this 
myself.  I  heard  mamma  sing  it,  and  I  liked  it 
so  much  I  asked  her  to  teach  it  to  me,  and  she 
did.     Shall  I  say  it  to  you  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the   colonel,  and  climbing  on 


344  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

the  sofa  on  which  he  sat,  she  put  one  little 
arm  over  his  shoulder,  and  repeated  very 
slowly  and  correctly  :  — 

"  I  was  a  wandering  sheep ; 

I  did  not  love  the  fold ; 
I  did  not  love  my  Father's  voice  i 

I  would  not  be  controlled. 
I  was  a  wayward  child  ; 

I  did  not  love  my  home ; 
I  did  not  love  my  Shepherd's  voice ; 

I  loved  afar  to  roam. 

"  The  Shepherd  sought  his  sheep ; 

The  Father  sought  his  child  ; 
They  followed  me  o'er  vale  and  hill, 

O'er  deserts  waste  and  wild. 
They  found  me  nigh  to  death  ; 

Famished  and  faint  and  lone  ; 
They  bound  me  with  the  bands  of  love  ; 

They  saved  the  wandering  one. 

"  Jesus  my  Shepherd  is ; 

'Twas  he  that  loved  my  soul  ; 
'Twas  he  that  washed  me  in  his  blood  j 

'Twas  he  that  made  me  whole  ; 
'Twas  he  that  sought  the  lost, 

That  found  the  wandering  sheep ; 
Twas  he  that  brought  me  to  the  fold; 

'Tis  he  that  still  doth  keep. 


Jesus'  Soldier.  345 

*  No  more  a  wandering  sheep, 

I  love  to  be  controlled  ; 
I  love  my  tender  Shepherd's  voice ; 

I  love  the  peaceful  fold. 
No  more  a  wayward  child, 

I  seek  no  more  to  roam ; 
I  love  my  heavenly  Father's  voice  ; 

I  love,  I  love  his  home." 

"  Isn't  it  sweet  ?  "  she  asked,  when  she  had 
finished. 

"  Say  it  again,  my  darling,"  said  the  col- 
onel. 

She  went  through  it  once  more. 

"  Where  is  that  hymn  ?  "  asked  the  colonel. 
"  Is  it  in  that  book  of  hymns  Marion  has  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Bessie.  "  Mamma  did 
not  say  it  out  of  that ;  but  we  will  see." 

She  slipped  down  from  the  sofa,  and  going 
for  the  hymn-book,  brought  it  to  the  colonel. 
He  began  slowly  turning  over  the  leaves,  look- 
ing for  the  hymn. 

"  Why,  that  is  not  the  way,"  said  Bessie  ; 
"  don't  you  know  how  to  find  a  hymn  yet  ? 
Here  is  the  way  :  "  and  she  turned  to  the  end 


£\6  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

of  the  book,  and  showed  him  the  table  of  first 
lines.  No,  it  was  not  there.  "  I'll  ask  mam- 
ma to  lend  you  her  book,  if  you  want  to  yead 
it  for  yourself,"  said  Bessie.  "  She  will,  I 
know." 

,  "  No,  no,"  said  the  colonel,  "  I  do  not  wish 
you  to." 

"  But  she'd  just  as  lief,  I  know." 

"  Never  mind,  darling ;  I  would  rather 
not,"  said  Colonel  Rush,  as  he  laid  down  the 
book. 

"  Shall  I  say  another  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  that  one  again,"  said 
the  colonel,  "  if  you  do  not  mind  saying  it  so 
often." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  like  to  say  it.  I  guess  you  like 
it  as  much  as  I  do,  you  want  to  hear  it  so 
many  times.  I  was  glad  that  I  learned  it  be- 
fore, but  I  am  gladder  now  when  you  like  it 
so ; "  and  the  third  time  she  repeated  the 
hymn. 

"  The  Shepherd,"  she  said  when  she  was 
through  ;  "  that  means  our  Saviour,  —  does  it 


Jesus'  Soldier.  347 

not  ?  —  and  the  big  people  are  the  sheep,  and 
the  children  the  lambs.  Maggie  and  I  are  his 
lambs,  and  you  are  his  sheep  ;  and  you  are  his 
soldier  too.  You  are  a  little  bit  my  soldier, 
but  you  are  a  great  deal  his  soldier ;  are  you 
not?" 

The  colonel  did  not  answer.  He  was  lean- 
ing his  head  on  his  hand,  and  his  face  was 
turned  a  little  from  her. 

"  Say,  are  you  not  ?  "  repeated  Bessie,  — 
"  are  you  not  his  soldier  ?  " 

'*  I'm  afraid  not,  Bessie,"  he  said,  turning 
his  face  towards  her,  and  speaking  very  slowly. 
"  If  I  were  his  soldier,  I  should  fight  for  him  ; 
but  I  have  been  fighting  against  him  all  my 
life." 

"  Why  ?  "  said  the  little  girl,  a  good  deal 
startled,  but  not  quite  understanding  him ; 
"  don't  you  love  him  ?  " 

"  No,  Bessie." 

It  was  pitiful  to  see  the  look  of  distress  and 
wonder  which  came  over  the  child's  face. 
"Don't  you  love   him?"  she   said   again, — 


348  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

"  don't  you  love  our  Saviour  ?  Oh,  you 
don't  mean  that,  —  you  only  want  to  tease 
me.  But  you  wouldn't  make  believe  about 
such  a  thing  as  that.  Don't  you  really  love 
him  ?     How  can  you  help  it  ?  " 

"  Bessie,"  said  the  colonel,  witli  a  kind  of 
groan,  "  I  want  to  love  him,  but  I  don't  know 
how.     Don't  cry  so,  my  darling." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  child,  stopping  her  sobs,  "  if 
you  want  to  love  him,  he'll  teach  you  how. 
Tell  him  you  want  to  ;  ask  him  to  make  you 
love  him,  and  he  will.  I  know  he  will,  'cause 
he  loves  you  so." 

"  Loves  me  ?  "  said  the  colonel. 

"  Yes  ;  he  loves  you  all  the  time,  even  if 
you  don't  love  him.  I  think  that's  what  my 
hymn  means.  Even  when  we  go  away  from 
him,  he'll  come  after  us,  and  try  to  make  us 
love  him.  I  know  it's  wicked  and  unkind 
not  to  love  him,  when  he  came  and  died  for 
us.  But  if  you're  sorry,  he  wont  mind  about 
that  any  more,  and  he  will  forgive  you.  He 
will  forgive  every  one  when  they  ask  him,  and 


yesus'  Soldier.  34.9 

tell  him  they're  sorry.  The  other  day,  when 
I  was  so  wicked  and  in  such  a  passion,  and 
struck  Mr.  Lovatt,  I  asked  Jesus  to  forgive 
me,  and  he  did.  I  know  he  did.  I  used  to 
be  in  passions  very  often,  and  he  helped  me 
when  I  asked  him  ;  and  now  he  makes  me  bet- 
ter ;  and  he'll  forgive  you  too,  and  make  you 
better." 

"  I  fear  there  can  be  no  forgiveness  for  me, 
Bessie.  I  have  lived  seven  times  as  long  as 
you,  my  child,  and  all  that  time,  I  have  been 
sinning  and  sinning.  I  have  driven  God  from 
me,  and  hardened  my  heart  against  the  Lord 
Jesus.  I  would  not  even  let  any  one  speak  to 
me  of  him." 

"  Never  matter,"  said  Bessie,  tenderly.  "  I 
don't  mean  never  matter,  'cause  it  is  matter. 
But  he  will  forgive  that  when  he  sees  you  are 
so  sorry,  and  he  will  be  sorry  for  you  ;  and 
he  does  love  you.  If  he  didn't  love  you,  he 
couldn't  come  to  die  for  you,  so  his  Father 
could  forgive  you,  and  take  you  to  heaven. 
There's  a  verse,  I  know,  about  that ;  mamma 


350  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side. 

teached  it  to  me  a  good  while  ago.  It  hangs 
in  our  nursery  just  like  a  picture,  all  in  pretty 
bright  letters  ;  and  we  have  '  Suffer  little  chil- 
dren,' too.  It  is  '  God  so  loved  the  world  that 
lie  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever 
believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have 
eternal  life.'  Mamma  says  the  world  means 
everybody." 

"  Could  you  find  that  verse  for  me,  Bes- 
sie ?  "  asked  the  colonel. 

"  I  don't  know,  sir ;  I  can't  find  things  in 
the  Bible,  —  only  a  few  ;  but  Jesus  said  it  to 
a  man  named  Nicodemus,  who  came  to  him 
and  wanted  to  be  teached.  He'll  teach  you, 
too,  out  of  his  Bible.  Oh,  wont  you  ask 
him  ? " 

"  I  will  try,  darling,"  he  said. 

"  I'll  get  your  Bible,  and  we'll  see  if  we  can 
find  that  verse,"  said  Bessie.  "  Where  is  your 
Bible  ?  " 

"  I  have  none,"  he  answered  ;  "  at  least,  I 
have  one  somewhere  at  home,  I  believe,  but  I 
do  not  know  where  it  is.     My  mother  gave  it 


Jesus'  Soldier.  35 1 

to  me,  but  I  have  never  read  it  since  I  was  a 
boy." 

"  Oh,  here's  Mrs.  Yush's  on  the  table,"  said 
Bessie  ;  "  she  always  keeps  it  on  the  window- 
seat,  and  she  always  made  me  put  it  back 
there ;  but  I  s'pose  she  forgot  and  left  it 
here." 

She  brought  the  Bible,  and  sat  down  by  the 
colonel. 

"  I  can  find,  '  Suffer  little  children,'  "  she 
said,  turning  to  the  eighteenth  chapter  of  Mat- 
thew. "  I  can  yead  you  a  little  bit,  if  you  tell 
me  the  big  words :  '  Suffer  little  children  to 
come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of 
such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.'  Isn't  it 
sweet  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  can  believe  it,"  he  said,  laying 
his  hand  on  Bessie's  head  ;  "  of  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven." 

Bessie  turned  to  the  fifteenth  chapter  of 
Luke.  "  Here's  about  the  prodigal  son,"  she 
said,  "but  it's  too  long  for  me.  Will  you 
please  yead  it  ?  " 


352  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

He  took  the  Bible  from  her,  and  read  the 
chapter  very  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  reading 
the  parable  a  second  time.  Then  he  turned 
the  leaves  over,  stopping  now  and  then  to  read 
a  verse  to  himself. 

"  If  you  want  what  Jesus  said  to  Nicode- 
inus,  look  there,"  said  Bessie,  pointing  to  the 
headings  of  the  chapters. 

He  soon  found  the  third  of  John,  and  sat 
for  a  long  time  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  six- 
teenth and  seventeenth  verses.  Bessie  sat  look- 
ing at  him  without  speaking. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  my  pet  ?  "  he 
asked  at  last,  laying  down  the  book. 

"  I  was  thinking  how  you  could  be  so  brave 
when  you  didn't  love  Him,"  she  said  "  Didn't 
it  make  you  afraid  when  you  was  in  a  dan- 
ger ?  " 

"  No,"  he  said  ;  "  I  hadn't  even  faith  enough 
to  be  afraid." 

**  And  that  night  didn't  you  feel  afraid  you 
wouldn't  go  to  heaven  when  you  died  ?  " 

"  The  thought  would  come  sometimes,  Bes- 


Jesus'  Soldier.  353 

sie,  but  I  put  it  from  me,  as  I  had  done  all  my 
life.  I  tried  to  think  only  of  home  and  Marion 
and  my  sister.  Will  you  say  that  hymn  again 
for  me,  Bessie  ?  " 

"  Shall  I  say,  '  I  need  thee,  precious 
Jesus '  ?  "  she  asked,  after  she  had  again 
repeated,  "  I  was  a  wandering  sheep  ; "  "I 
think  you  do  need  our  precious  Jesus." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  and  she  said  for  him,  "  I 
need  thee,  precious  Jesus." 

"  Shall  I  ask  papa  to  come  and  see  you,  and 
tell  you  about  Jesus  ?  "  she  said,  when  her 
father  and  mother  stopped  for  her  on  their 
way  from  church.  "  I  am  so  little,  I  don't 
know  much,  but  he  knows  a  great  deal." 

"  No,  dear,  I  want  no  better  teacher  than  I 
have  had,"  said  Colonel  Rusn. 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

But  the  colonel  only  kissed  her,  and  told  her 
aot  to  keep  her  father  and  mother  waiting  ; 
and  so  she  went  away. 

But  that  afternoon  there  came  a  little  note 
to  Mr.  Bradford  from  Mrs.  Rush  :  — 
23 


354  Bessie  at  the  Sea- Side. 

"  Dear  Friend,  — 

"  Can  you  come  to  my  husband  ?  He  has 
opened  his  heart  to  me,  and  asked  for  you. 

"  Marion  Rush." 

Mr.  Bradford  went  over  directly. 

The  colonel  looked  pale  and  worn,  and  had  a 
tired,  anxious  expression  in  his  eye.  But  after 
Mr.  Bradford  came  in,  he  talked  of  everything 
but  that  of  which  he  was  thinking  so  much, 
though  it  seemed  as  if  he  did  not  feel  a  great 
deal  of  interest  in  what  he  was  saying.  At 
last  his  wife  rose  to  go  away,  but  he  called  her 
back,  and  told  her  to  stay.  He  was  silent  for 
a  little  while,  till  Mr.  Bradford  laid  his  hand 
on  his  arm. 

"  Rush,  my  friend,"  he  said,  "  are  you  look- 
ing for  the  light  ?  " 

The  colonel  did  not  speak  for  a  moment 
then  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  — 

"No;  I  see  the  light,  but  it  is  too  far  away 
I  cannot  reach  to  where  its  beams  may  fall 
upon  me.     I  see  it.    It  was  a  tiny  hand,  that 


Jesus'  Soldier.  355 

of  your  precious  little  child,  which  pointed  it 
out,  and  showed  me  the  way  by  which  I  must 
go ;  but  my  feet  have  so  long  trodden  the  road 
which  leads  to  death,  that  now,  when  I  would 
set  my  face  the  other  way,  they  falter  and 
stumble.  I  cannot  even  stand,  much  less  go 
forward.  Bradford,  I  am  a  far  worse  cripple 
there  than  I  am  in  this  outer  world." 

"  There  is  one  prop  which  cannot  fail  you," 
said  Mr.  Bradford.  "  Throw  away  all  others, 
and  cast  yourself  upon  the  almighty  arm 
which  is  stretched  out  to  sustain  and  aid  you. 
You  may  not  see  it  in  the  darkness  which  is 
about  you,  but  it  is  surely  there,  ready  to 
receive  and  uphold  you.  Only  believe,  and 
trust  yourself  to  it,  and  it  will  bear  you  on- 
wards and  upwards  to  the  light,  unto  the  shin- 
ing of  the  perfect  day." 

Colonel  Rush  did  not  answer,  and  Mr. 
Bradford,  opening  the  Bible,  read  the  92d 
and  118th  Psalms.  Then  he  chose  the  chap- 
ter which  the  colonel  and  Bessie  had  read  in 
the  morning,  and  after  he  had  talked  a  little 


356  Bessie  at  the  Sea-Side, 

"  Marion,"  said  the  colonel,  after  some 
time,  "  do  you  know  a  hymn  beginning 

'  I  was  a  wandering  sheep '  1 " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Rush  ;  and  in  her  low, 
sweet  voice,  she  sang  it  to  him.  Next  she 
sang,  "Just  as  I  am,"  twice  over,  —  for  he 
asked  for  it  a  second  time,  —  then  both  sat 
silent  for  a  long  while. 

The  rosy  light  of  the  August  sunset  died  out 
of  the  west,  the  evening  star  which  little  Bes- 
sie had  once  said  looked  "  like  God's  eye  taking 
care  of  her  when  she  went  to  sleep,"  shone  out 
bright  and  peaceful ;  then,  as  it  grew  darker 
and  darker,  came  forth  another  and  another 
star,  and  looked  down  on  the  world  which 
God  had  loved  so  much,  till  the  whole  sky 
was  brilliant  with  them ;  the  soft,  cool  sea- 
breeze  came  gently  in  at  the  windows,  bring- 
ing with  it  the  gentle  plash  of  the  waves  upon 
the  shore,  mingled  with  the  chirp  of  the  crick- 
ets and  the  distant  hum  of  voices  from  the  far 
end  of  the  piazza  ;  but  no  one  came  near  or 


Jesus'  Soldier*  357 

disturbed  theni ;  and  still  the  colonel  sat  with 
his  face  turned  towards  the  sea,  without  either 
speaking  or  moving,  till  his  wife,  as  she  sat 
with  her  hand  in  his,  wondered  if  he  could  be 
asleep. 

At  last  he  spoke,  "  Marion." 

"  Yes,  love." 

"  The  light  is  shining  all  around  me,  and 
I  can  stand  in  it  —  with  my  hand  upon  the 
cross." 

"  Bessie,"  said  the  colonel,  when  she  came 
to  him  the  next  morning,  "  I  have  found  your 
iSaviour.  He  is  my  Saviour  now,  and  I  shall 
be  his  soldier,  and  fight  for  him  as  long  as  I 
shall  live." 


530  Broadway,  New  York, 
March,  1884. 


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